Paper Planes
by SweetFantasies
Summary: Ember DeLoughrey runs into a bit of bad luck when she encounters the infamous Joker amidst his escape from Arkham. Her luck improves when the man decides to spare her life, all thanks to a familiar paper plane necklace around her neck. Ledger Joker x Original Character {Set six months after The Dark Knight}
1. I

Paper Planes

 _"The purpose of literature is to turn blood into ink."_

—T.S. Eliot

Hellooo! Welcome to Paper Planes!

I've always wanted to write a Ledger Joker fic because the ratio of Leto Joker to Ledger Joker fics is annoying and I'm just so in love with this character and have always wanted to make it my own so HERE WE GO

With that being said, I want to establish some disclaimers:

• This story is an ORIGINAL version of The Joker. It does not follow the comics in any way. If anything, it follows the themes established by Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy.

• The story takes place six months after TDK.

• I have decided to make Ledger's character my own in this story. Therefore, he will have a given birth name, as well as the true story behind his scars. Although in reality, both of these facts are unknown, I want to remind you that this is fanfiction and I've put my own twist on his character.

THIS STORY WILL INCLUDE:

-Violence (graphic. Its the fucking Joker, you cant expect anything less)

-Profanity

-Sexual themes

-Drugs

-Idk some other mature themes tbh. Im just a fucked up person who enjoys writing about fucked up things

If you copy this story in any way I will fuck you up. I've worked extremely hard on this book.

And of course, a huge thank you to the amazing Heath Ledger for creating such a mesmerizing villain. I fucking love and miss you, honey bunch.

* * *

 _"It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more."_

—J.K. Rowling

Ember DeLoughrey trudged through the mud, her violet tinted rubber boots sinking into the thick clay as she stuffed her hands deeply into her denim overall pockets. Violent gusts of wind threw her blonde locks astray as she shivered from the cold.

It was nearing midnight in Gotham, and not a single soul stood within miles of the woman, trembles wracking through her body as she kept her head low. An uneasy feeling settled in her belly as she rounded the side of the heavily gated Arkham Asylum.

Typically, she'd take the long way home from her closing shifts at the boutique, but tonight she couldn't help but want to get home quicker to watch reruns of _Friends_ before bed.

As she observed the grim building, a sudden chill ran down her spine. It horrified her to even begin to imagine the horrors and hells behind those thick, concrete walls. The abundance of psychopaths, lunatics and freaks that sat in padded cells, their arms locked together under the comfort of a straight jacket. Ember's heard plenty about some of the scum that sat behind those rusted bars, rotting away in their cells as they payed for the horrific crimes they'd committed.

Thunder clapped overhead, a low growl of creaking steel echoing throughout the back of the institution as her dark eyes glared in the sounds direction. A thick set of woods sat behind the building, dark trees forming into fearsome figures as the leaves swayed in the wind.

She froze in place, the feeling in her legs dissipating as her heart lept into her throat. A sleek black SUV, clad with dark tinted windows and thick, silver rims sat parked directly outside the chain-link fence, a gaping hole cut out of the material, large enough for a six-foot man to easily slip through.

Her legs began to shake, her eyes darting in several directions as if to search for a possible escape route.

Unfortunately, she'd already been seen.

"Hey!" A voice barked, her legs scurrying backwards as her heel collided with a deep hole of mud, her rubber boot sinking quickly as she toppled backwards. Her limbs were coated with fresh sludge as a yelp escaped her chapped lips.

"Fuck! Grab her!" A second voice called, her eyes widening as she struggled to stand, the tall, black frame of an unidentified figure approaching her quickly.

A bald man, standing easily over six feet with a thick, brunette beard cupped her elbows, tearing her abruptly from the mess of mud as she screeched in fear.

"Get off!" She cried, her hands slapping miserably against his rock-hard chest as he effortlessly drug her towards the vehicle, joining two other men dressed in black.

"Who the fuck are you?" One of them barked, his voice muffled by the bulky plastic of a wilting clown mask, large circles cut out of the eyes allowing the man to properly see.

Ember diverted her gaze, cowering against the tall man as she wept.

 _She fucking hated clowns_.

"I asked you a question, _bitch_." The clown seethed, taking several steps forward as he approached her, the stained flesh of his pudgy hand darting outward to encapture her shirt in his palm, cortorting it into a ball as he tugged at the fabric, bringing her closer to his masked face.

"E-Ember." She revealed, her mascara staining her cheeks in thick tracks as she loudly cried underneath the mans grasp.

"What is your purpose here, _Ember_?" The man taunted, but she was unable to answer, as the second masked figure suddenly spoke.

"The boss is coming!"

"Shit." The clown cursed, his hold faltering on the frail girl as he paced back and forth. "Everything ready? We need to go as soon as he's out. We can't risk _anything_."

"What about the girl?" Bald man questioned.

The clown fell silent, his thumbs rotating quickly as he tugged at the loose fabric of his shirt.

"The boss decides her fate. She's already seen to much."

"I haven't seen anything!" Ember shouted, desperately trying to shuffle out of the mans grasp, only to anger him more as he cupped her throat, slightly choking her to hold her in place.

"Too late," He grumbled.

"You should know better than to wander behind a fucking asylum in Gotham at night. Dumbass." Bald man mocked.

Thick tears clouded Ember's vision, her mouth wide open as she deeply inhaled, struggling to breathe through the thick fingers that clasped onto the fragile skin of her throat.

Through her blurred vision, she was able to properly distinguish a hunched figure crawling through the gaping hole in the fence, a mess of white, black, and red clouding her sight as she struggled to contain a scream.

"Who do we have here- _ah_?" A haunting, voice wondered, higher-pitched in tone. Her heart dropped instantly into her stomach as she blinked away the tears.

Her vision steadied, a gurgled cry erupting from her lips the moment she saw who stood before her. Thick fingers clamped over her mouth, muffling the scream as she flailed her arms wildly, desperately attempting to escape from the madman that stood before her.

 _It wasn't possible... this wasn't possible..._

"We need to go, boss." The first clown urged, a pair of dark eyes settling upon Ember's severely trembling figure as she broke down.

"Bring her." He drawled, turning onto his heel before elegantly leaping into the vehicle, the mangled mess of greasy, dirty blonde hair disappearing out of sight as Ember's legs gave out completely.

"P-Please," She sobbed.

"Don't put me in there with him! Please!"

The bald man only chuckled deeply, clutching onto the nape of her neck as he shoved her forward into the open side doors of the SUV, her head colliding harshly with the bench of the seat as she howled in pain, her dainty fingers darting upward to caress the bump that slowly began to form on her forehead as she blinked away stars.

Her blurred vision focused on a pair of matted black Converse, sitting only several inches from her face as she craned her neck slowly upwards, petrified to see who the shoes belonged to.

"Hiya, _toots_." The man taunted, another shriek erupting from her lips as the vehicle began to accelerate, her bum sliding against the plastic floor as her back collided with the back doors of the van.

His trademark makeup was messy, the white greasepaint that coated his features was nearly sweated off completely, the pale skin underneath peeking through. Deep, dark circles outlined his chocolate brown eyes, an eyebrow cocked upward in amusement as his horrifying red-painted Chelsea grin pulled into a smirk.

"You're—You're—You're—" She stammered, scrambling backwards against the coolness of the door as she suddenly felt extremely ill.

" _The Grinch_." He mocked, followed closely by a throaty laugh, low and dark, only to raise several octaves the longer he laughed, his stained scars curling upward as he doubled over in amusement, howling at the pitiful joke he'd made.

"I-I?" Ember stammered, at a complete loss for words as the madman clutched tightly onto his stomach, roaring in laughter as his gaze flickered back on hers.

His laughter suddenly ceased, his torso straightening against the wall of the vehicle as he sucked harshly on the inside of his scars.

"Just _say_ it, toots. _Say. My. Name_." His usual higher pitch voice crescendoed into a loud and menacing tone, mimicking that of a growl as the hairs on the back of Ember's neck stood upwards in fear.

She sat several feet away from him, his lanky body facing towards the side door as he craned his neck to glare at her. His greasepaint stained hands rested comfortably on his knobby knees as he toyed with the fabric of his black and white striped jumpsuit.

"Joker." She whispered, pressing further up against the back door, as if it'd magically open the harder that she pressed up against it.

" _Ding-ding-ding_! We have ah- _winner_!" He theatrically sang, his tongue darting outward, wetting the bottom left corner of his lip, where a deep scar sat directly underneath, leading into the scars that destroyed his face.

"We're here, boss." The clown from the front seat informed, Ember's heartbeat accelerating painfully in her chest as she dug her nails into the plastic mats of the vehicle.

The side door thrust open, a strand of profanities leaving her lips as she gripped onto the sides of the van with every limb, shaking her head violently as the bald man opened the back doors, his plump fingers curling around her arms as he tugged her from the security of the car.

"No! Please, let me go!" She begged, thrashing turbulently in his arms as she desperately tried to escape.

The Joker hopped gleefully from the vehicle, a hand running through his faded, oily hair as he skipped towards the dilapidated building, the windows covered tightly by tin foil, the faded blue shutters clinging onto the pale, rotting concrete by a loose thread of nails.

A profusion of thick, overgrown weeds littered the yard, along with scattered shards of wood and broken glass.

The bald man followed closely behind The Joker, who skipped along the deep cracks in the concrete sidewalk.

"Step on a cr- _ack_ , you'll _break_ your Mama's b- _ack_!" He gleefully sung, stomping firmly onto a particularly large crack, a fit of giggles erupting from the broad-shoulder man as he continued onward.

Bald man's arms linked tightly across the frail girls chest as she flailed in his grasp, loud sobs wracking through her chest as her fists collided with the muscles of his back. He didn't even flinch.

"I'll be back-ah. Need to get ou-t of these clothes." The Joker announced, kicking the rotten wooden door open with the toe of his shoe as he trudged into the building, a low cackle erupting from his hunched frame as he rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

An overwhelmingly musky scent filled Ember's nostrils, her nose crinkling in disgust as the bile from her stomach suddenly rose into her throat, the blood rushing to her head as he draped her over his bony shoulder.

She lay limp in his arms, her eyes curiously wandering the place the Joker apparently called home.

It reeked of death and mildew.

Her back suddenly came into contact with the frigid floor, the concrete cracking the bones in her back as she groaned in discomfort.

"Stay here." The bald man sneered.

"He'll deal with you soon."

Then, he left. Closing the door tightly behind him with an enthusiastic click as Ember lay motionless on the ground, her panicked gaze flickering over the stacks of sloppily labeled boxes that sat in the left corner of the room.

The musky scent was worse in this room than in the entryway, her breath hitching in her throat as she suddenly noticed the abundance of dried blood stains on the floor.

The walls were unpainted, stained only with bodily fluids as the windows were thickly boarded up with tin foil.

A single lightbulb flickered overhead, hanging loosely from the ceiling by a thin metal chain, swinging slightly from the air conditioning vent that sat a mere foot away.

Ember clasped her palm over her mouth, a defeated cry escaping her lips as she shivered in realization:

 _She was going to die in here._


	2. II

_"The events in our lives happen in a sequence in time, but in their significance to ourselves they find their own order the continuous thread of revelation."_

—Eudora Welty

* * *

Ember's hands balled into fists at her sides, a strangled cry wracking through her body as the tears freely flowed.

She was too young to die. Thirty wasn't old enough... thirty years on this Earth wasn't enough time.

What felt like hours later, the lock on the door suddenly clicked, a plethora of emotions overcoming the woman as she sat up quickly, shuffling backwards until she met the harsh surface of the uneven wall, her legs wobbling with fear as an abundance of purple entered the room.

He was alone. No clown masked figures, no bald man with inexplicable strength. Just the Joker himself, clad with his usual purple attire, a fresh face of paint, and a sharp switchblade in his gloved clutch.

Ember cowered against the wall, inhumane sounds coming from her as the clown forcefully shoved the door closed with the heel of his boot, his tongue toying with the profound scar on his right cheek.

" _Ah-ta-ta!_ " He scolded, waving the open blade back and forth in the air as the woman tried to back herself further against the wall, but to no avail.

He slowly sunk to her level, his face mere inches from hers as he intently licked his lips. He could practically _taste_ the fear radiating off of her, and boy, did it drive him absolutely _wild_.

"What's the matter, _pumpkin_?" He taunted, his gloved hand darting outward to capture her chin, pulling her face forward forcibly, ordering her to look him directly in the eye.

She squeezed hers shut in response, the tears falling in thin sheets as she lay broken beneath him.

"I don't wanna die." She admitted through painful sobs.

The Joker clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, an amused hum emerging from him as he gently carressed her cheek, his fingers darting upwards to pry her closed eyes open.

"Loo- _k_ at _me_." He calmly ordered, his thumb resting against her cheek as his index finger sat firmly on her forehead. He slowly spread his fingers further apart, tugging her tear-drenched skin along with them as he slowly pried her eyelids open.

"I _said_ ," he began, his tone firm with a hint of annoyance.

" _LOOK. AT. ME_!"

Ember squeaked in response, her eyes flying open as she truly took in his appearance.

Although his eyebrows were covered by the darkness of his black greasepaint, the lines on his forehead indicated that he was furrowing them at her, his bottom lip pulled tightly between his yellow teeth as he stared deeply into her eyes.

" _So_ ," he began, rising to his feet as he tore his hand from her face, a sense of relief temporarily flooding through her as he turned his back to her, rotating the blade between his fingers as he muttered incoherently under his breath. "How should I _kill_ you, toots?"

"P-Please don't, Mister Joker—" Ember pitifully begged, only to screech suddenly when he stooped back down to her level in a fraction of a second, his left hand cupping the back of her skull as his right hand rest nicely against her cheek, the coolness of the blade tickling her lips as she convulsed beneath him.

" _Mister_?" He menacingly giggled, pressing the blade against her lips as he licked his intently, his nose a mere inch from hers as she choked back the sobs that threatened to escape. "Now _that_ is a new one! I _like_ the sound of tha- _t_!"

He suddenly pulled away once again, the feeling of the blade leaving her face as she collapsed onto her hands and knees and began to crawl away from the wall.

"I _like_ it, I _like it_." Joker mumbled under his breath, watching amusingly as the womans denim overalls severely stained with mud and grime and the rubber of her boots squeaked against the blood stained floor.

"I'm not going to ask you _again_ ," He threatened. "If you don't _pick_ , _I'll_ pick _for_ you. And I promise yah, _toots_ , you're no- _t_ going to like my _choice_."

"I-I p-promise I won't tell anyone," She said. "I'll keep my mouth shut."

"'Course you will, _darlin_ ," A giggle escaped his lips. "'Cause your mouth'll be sewn _shut_."

A whimper left her as she dared to crawl into the direction of the door. Joker's gaze darkened, his hands balling into tight fists at his sides as he pounced, tackling her withered body flatly against the concrete as he flipped her unceremoniously onto her back, the back of her head slapping against the ground as she loudly groaned mid-cry.

"P-Please," She pleaded, her hands darting upwards to claim the collar of his shirt. Joker, however, was one step ahead of her.

With one swift motion, he captured both of her wrists with his left hand, roughly pulling them upwards and above her head as she cried out in pain. He held them against the floor, squeezing the tiny bones in her wrists together as she wiggled beneath his body, his hips straddling hers as the knife found its way to her mouth once again.

"Fuck," He groaned, digging the blade into her skin as she cried even harder. "Do you ever stop cry- _ing_?"

He ground his hips firmly against hers, the friction against her hipbones causing her to wince in pain as she lay trapped beneath the psychopath above her.

 _How the fuck did she get into this situation in the first place?_

"I'm _sorry_ it has to be this way," He taunted, his tongue tracing the indents of his scars from the inside of his cheeks. "Actually, I'm no- _t_. I'm a bi- _t_ over your fucking _crying_ , if I'm being honest." He hissed.

"Now, do you wan- _t_ to know how I _got_ these scars?" Joker mused, his Glasgow grin tugging upwards as he placed the blade further into her cheek, leaning his body forward so that he practically was laying on top of her, his nose a mere inch from hers.

Just as he was about to slice through her soft flesh, a glimmer of something silver caught his eye.

He immediately released his hold on her wrists, a sigh of relief tumbling from Ember as she massaged her reddened wrists with her fingers, not daring to remove them from over her head.

She closely observed the man as he slowly sat up, his hips still firmly on hers as he froze above her. His brown eyes widened as his gloved hand traveled to her neck, his fingers closing around the chain that clung to her skin.

Her breathing quickened, the tears halting in place as an uncomforting silence rose between them, the Joker's gaze studying the necklace around her neck rather intently as he took the pendant between his fingers, turning it over as if to inspect it.

She breathed heavily beneath him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he continuously studied the charm that hung loosely onto the silver chain.

"A paper airplane?" He mocked.

"Y-Yeah." Ember breathed, her gaze settling upon the small airplane that sat between his fingers as she brought her bottom lip between her teeth. "I wear it everyday. I've had it for years."

"Hmph." The Joker sighed, the charm slipping from his grasp as it collided once more with the flesh of her chest.

Ember watched closely as the man removed himself from her waist, standing to his feet slowly as his forehead heavily crinkled with curiosity.

"Uh," He stammered, snapping the blade closed as he stuffed it into the inside pocket of his purple coat. Ember lay stunned on the concrete floor, trembling slightly as she continued to rub her sore wrists above her head. "I'll have- _ah_ , Bleaker in here soon to ge- _t_ you all- _uh_ , washed _up_."

He stole another glance at the necklace laying neatly against Ember's breasts before turning on his heel and exiting the room, isolating the woman once more.


	3. III

_"Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it!"_

—Heath Ledger

* * *

"He's got to be joking, right?" Bleaker scoffed, his stubby fingers fiddling with the loose strands of his worn sweater as he lounged in the ripped mahogany barcalounger. "He actually wants us to cater to this woman? He was about to off her, and then suddenly he changes his mind?"

"Don't question the boss, Bleaker. You know how he is. He's unpredictable." Horton plainly put, a ball-point pen held tightly in his clutch as he doodled on an old piece of lined paper.

The bald man, who goes by the name of Spalding, sat silently in the corner.

"It just makes no sense! He's never let anyone stay in this house who isn't one of his men, and now this woman sees him escape and suddenly she's an exception?"

"I don't know why you're freaking out over this, Bleaker. Maybe the boss was about to kill her, noticed the hefty rack she's got, and decided to keep her around for a little bit for some fun. I mean fuck, dude, he's been couped up in that cell for six months, the guy has to be horny." Spalding stated.

Bleaker scrunched his nose in disgust, picking mindlessly at his overgrown fingernails. "You think the Joker actually has sex? I always thought he was asexual or something, I dunno. He just doesn't seem like the type."

"He seems like the type to have some pretty kinky sex to me." Spalding snorted, a look of disapproval present on Horton's features as he tapped his foot irritably.

"You two know better than to talk that way about the boss," He scolded.

"Remember when Garling joked about him having a tiny dick and he ended up circumcising him in front of all of us?"

Spalding and Bleaker loudly gulped at the memory, Garling's convulsing, bloodied torso still imprinted in their brains.

"Excuse me?" A small voice called from the opposite end of the room.

Three pairs of eyes darted towards the direction of the sudden sound. Ember stood in the doorway, her fingers laced together as she nervously fiddled her thumbs.

"Are there any towels?"

Bleaker raised an eyebrow, glancing in Horton's direction as he simply shrugged. The men knew that the nicest, most upkept room in the entire house was the Joker's.

"You'll have to borrow one of the bosses." Spalding informed her.

Ember loudly gulped, her gaze diverting to the floor as she tried to think of any possible way to get one of the men to ask him instead of herself.

"Look," Bleaker began, standing to his feet and slowly making his way towards the cowering woman in the doorway. "There's a reason he's keeping you around. I have no clue what that reason could be, but he's given you your own bedroom, with a fucking bed with sheets and all. No one has ever stayed in that bedroom, so I'm almost certain he's not going to stab you if you ask for a damn towel."

"Quit harrassing her, Bleaker." Horton scolded.

Ember glared at the man, his face no longer hidden by the grueling clown mask. He was visibly young, younger than herself by the features of his face. He's undeniably attractive, strutting a mess of chocolate brown hair that curled around his ears and a pair of bright blue eyes.

His expression slackened at her lack of response. Bleaker watched as she silently admired him, her severely chapped bottom lip pulling tightly between her pearly white teeth as she tugged at the hem of her stained, untucked t-shirt that sat underneath her overalls.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"I'll go ask him."

Ember's features brightened, Bleaker turning curtly on his heel as he headed in the opposite direction, rounding a destroyed corner of the wall and disappearing from view.

"So what's the deal?" Horton barked, breaking her from her small trance.

She blinked several times, an unsettling feeling bubbling in her belly as she raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" Ember squeaked.

"Is the boss fucking you? Why is he actually keeping you around?"

"Horton!" The bald man scolded, tossing a chewed straw at the portly blonde man's face.

Ember crinkled her nose in disgust, shaking her head quickly. "No! I don't know why he spared me, to be honest. I just—I really want to go home." She admitted.

"Tough shit," Spalding countered.

"You either stay here or die."

The woman gulped once again, her expression faltering as she stared at her toes.

 _It's not like she had anyone to go home to anymore_.

Bleaker returned moments later, his cheeks flushed as he ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

"Uh, the boss wants to speak with you privately." He stuttered.

"O-Oh." Ember shifted uncomfortably against the frame of the entryway. "Where is he?"

"He wants to speak with you privately, in his _bedroom_."

A still silence littered the stale air, the three men shifting restlessly in their places. Horton flashed her a strange glare, one that Ember could actually pair with that of jealousy.

What could he possibly want to talk to her about?

"I'll lead you there." Bleaker said, clearing his throat as he outstretched a bruised arm in the direction of the monsters bedroom.

Ember's heart raced in her chest, her legs wobbling violently as she followed closely behind the attractive man, around the corner and down a dingy hallway, littered with shattered picture frames that clung to the chipped carob tinted walls. Nearly all of the stock photo individuals that sat inside the frames' eyes had been blacked out with dark ink, along with dark red Glasgow smiles scribbled across their mouths.

"Last door on the right." Bleaker dryly spoke, halting in his steps as she shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

Ember silently nodded, her breaths becoming shallow as the man promptly abandoned her, isolating the woman in the unfamiliar hallway as she slowly raised her fist up to the deep purple painted door.

Her knuckles tapped lightly against the wood, her heart beating wildly in her throat as she rocked forward and backward on her heel.

The door clicked open the moment she retracted her knuckles from the wood, a shiver running down her spine as a heavily painted face came into view.

The Joker's lips curled into a smirk as he lounged against the open door, his ankles crossing as he shoved his paint-stained hands into the pockets of his purple pants.

"What can I do for you, _toots_?" He mused, his brown eyes glimmering with amusement as he sucked on the inside of his scars. She began to notice his little ticks, from the lip-licking to the scar sucking...

"I wanted to take a shower." Ember whispered, trembling in her rubber boots as Joker smacked his lips in response.

" _Sooo_ , take a shower." He grinned wildly.

"Unless you'd _like_ some _company_ , which I _cer_ - _tain_ - _ly_ wouldn't de- _ny_."

"Oh, uh, I just need a towel." Ember squeaked, her cheeks growing hot at his inappropriate comment.

An exasperated sigh escaped through his nostrils, his hands retracting from his pockets as he stepped aside and waved her inside the room.

Her stomach twisted into knots at the invitation, her feet frozen in place on the ground as he raised his eyebrows.

"Y-You want me t-to come inside?" She stammered.

"I promise I won't bi- _te_ , sugar plum." Joker snickered. " _Hard_."

Her knees wobbled as she slowly shuffled into the room, her eyes widening as she took in her surroundings.

Joker's room was rather large, and was the polar opposite of the rest of the house. The walls were splashed with deep green paint, lacking any smudging or chipping. She was a bit intimidated, however, by the blood red writing that scattered the walls, a series of "HA"s littering the walls on top of the paint. A black stained wooden desk sat along the wall immediately to the left, the surface completely covered with an assortment of papers surrounding a desktop computer screen, which illuminated the otherwise dark room, due to the thick blackout curtains that hung over the single window on the opposite side. A neatly made king sized bed sat in the center of the room, clad with deep purple sheets and half a dozen fluffy pillows that lined the inky wooden, fence-like headboard, with thin poles that lined the wall ( _perfectly crafted for handcuffs_ ).

"Your- _uh_ , _eyes_ sparkle when you _admire_ things." Joker observed, thrusting a mocha tinted towel into her arms.

"I just didn't expect your room to look like this." She sheepishly admitted.

She didn't expect it to be so neat and decorative either.

A low chuckle resonated through his chest, his ungloved thumb tracing the deep crevices of his scars as Ember stood silently before him, towel held tightly in her clutch.

"Do those hurt?" She innocently wondered.

" _No_." Joker whispered, retracting his fingers from his face as he ran a hand through his overgrown hair. The green had nearly dissipated entirely, courtesy of the six months he spent behind bars.

 _Do you want to feel them?_

He immediately shoved the thought from his head, clearing his throat rather awkwardly as Ember stilly stood perpendicular to him, only arms length apart, towel draped over her arms.

"Thanks for the towel." Ember whispered, her head hanging lowly as she turned on her heel, exiting the room without another word and leaving the madman alone to his thoughts.

He let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding at her departure, his fingers lacing around the handle as he slowly closed the door behind her.


	4. IV

"Mishaps are like knives, that either serve us or cut us, as we grasp them by the blade or the handle."

—James Russell Lowell

* * *

Two days.

Ember's sat couped up in the Joker's hideway for a solid two days.

Bleaker had confiscated her cell phone several hours after the bosses generous action of sparing the womans life. They didn't need anyone tracking her or her contacting anyone, so he was ordered to destroy it off the property, to Ember's absolute horror.

The Joker sat in the kitchen, his ass planted firmly on the wilted wooden bar stool as he twisted a freshly sharpened knife between his white and red stained fingers, the clean blade sparkling slightly from the artificial lighting of the room.

His lanky legs lay across the cracked countertop, the toe of his boot toying with a half-full bottle of dark discarded dip as he drifted into a bit of a trance.

"Orders, boss?" Horton wondered, cracking his bruised knuckles together as he wandered aimlessly into the kitchen.

"It's been fifty hours since I escaped, _Horton_. Do you really expec- _t_ me to have a _plan_?"

Horton watched intently as his boss spoke. The man was always quite theatrical, even in his speech. The way he clicked his tongue when he spat out his " _t's_ ", as well as the amusing way his scars broadened when he spoke the word " _plan_ ".

The man forced himself to pry his gaze from the Joker, his shameful feelings coming to light about the painted-face man that lounged before him.

The Joker rose an eyebrow, his thumb pressing harshly against the tip of the blade as he purposely drew a bit of blood. He was infatuated with the sight of the liquid, and he watched intently as it dribbled down the flesh of his finger.

"Wha- _t_?" He barked, his eyes concentrating on the henchmen as he shifted his weight from one foot to another.

"N-Nothing, sir." Horton stammered, clearing his throat fumblingly.

 _I'm completely attracted to you._

Joker swung his legs off of the counter, snapping the blade back into place as he shoved it into his coat pocket.

" _Horty-Hort-Horton_ ," Joker sang, kicking the stool out from underneath him. Horton flinched as the wood collided shrilly with the cracked tile floor. "There _is_ something you could do for me, _act-u-a-lly_." He enunciated, the single stream of blood from the tip of his finger sitting neatly upon his flesh as he held it upwards, as if he was giving the man a "thumbs up".

"As you can- _uh_ , _see_ , my hairs grown out a bi- _t_. Would you be a _doll_ and fetch me some gr- _een_ dye and a _pack_ of cigs?"

He slowly approached Horton, standing an arms length apart as he glared menacingly into the henchmans eyes.

Horton visibly gulped, a feeling of discomfort setting in him at the close proximity of the man he'd grown to truly admire.

"Absolutely, sir." He stammered, his breath hitching in his throat when the Joker suddenly raised his hand to the mans face, the warmth of his blood coming into contact with his plump lips as he forgot how to breathe entirely.

" _Thanks_." Joker hissed, pressing his thumb harshly against Horton's bottom lip, smearing his fresh blood over the skin before retracting his fingers and wiping the excess on Horton's matted yellow shirt. "Ge- _t_ some paper towels too, while you're _at it_."

With that, the painted faced man left, a slight skip in his step as he hummed an unidentifiable tune under his breath.

Horton sat stunned in the kitchen, a slight tightness in his pants as his fingers gently grazed over the warmth of the Joker's blood, an indescribable feeling settling in his bones as he plummeted further into the pits of admiration.

"You have to eat _something_." Bleaker sighed, dropping the glass plate harshly against the floor as he ran a hand through his hair, the sandwich toppling off the side and tumbling onto the carpet.

Ember lay in a ball, her limbs curled up inside the freshly cleaned jet black sheets as her back face the man.

"I want to go home." She cried, her greasy blonde locks thrown askew over the pillow as she choked back several sobs. Although she was thankful to still be alive, being confined to this pitiful, color-less room made her head spin.

"Well that's too damn bad, _bitch_. Now, do I need to force-feed you, or are you going to comply?" Bleaker threatened, his gaze darkening as he stood from his crouched position on the floor, slowly approaching the bed where a trembling Ember lay.

"Wha- _t_ seems to be the _problem_ , Bleaker?" A mocking voice called.

The man froze in place, standing a mere foot away from the bed where the frail woman lay.

"She won't eat, sir." He spluttered.

"So your _plan_ was to force- _feed_ her?" The Joker scolded, the familiar click of the blade of his favorite knife sent chills down the henchmans spine.

"N-No, sir. Of course not." Bleaker pitifully lied, squeezing his eyelids together in fear as he suddenly felt the mans front pressed harshly up against his back, the coolness of the blade pressed harshly against the bone of his jaw, his right arm kinked by the tight hold of the clown behind him.

"Did you just _lie_ to me?" Joker seethed, his breath fanning over the mans cheek, an array of goosebumps rising on his skin as he choked back a whimper.

"I'm so sorry, sir. She just needs to eat—"

"She'll ea- _t_ when she's hungry, moron."

Bleaker flinched when the blade suddenly left his jaw, leaving his skin unscathed. A sigh of relief tumbled from his lips as the Joker's tall frame abandoned his, circling around the bed to face Ember head-on.

" _Darling_ ," He cooed, sinking to his knees at the side of the bed, her eyes screwing shut in fear as he sat rather close to her. "What's the mat- _ter_?"

"I want to go home." She sniffled, her eyes squeezed tightly shut to avoid his menacing glare.

"I'm a- _fraid_ that isn't _possible_ , toots." Joker replied, smacking his lips as his hand darted outward to capture her covered thigh.

She instinctively jerked away, cowering before the man as she prayed that he'd just leave her alone.

Joker's gaze darkened, his tongue darting outward to wet his lips as he swiftly stood to his feet, retrieving the knife from the outside pocket of his coat once again as he paced diligently around the room.

"Get _up_." He ordered, his gaze settling upon a stunned Bleaker, who stood motionless in the doorway. " _Out_." He barked.

Bleaker threw his hands into the air in surrender, scurrying from the room as Joker took three large strides towards the door, kicking it closed with the toe of his boot before reapproaching the bed where a trembling Ember lay, her eyes still squeezed tightly shut.

"I sai- _d_ ," Joker sang, smacking his lips together impatiently as he twirled the knife between his fingers. " _Get up_!"

Ember cried out in response, her frail body jumping from the bed as she stood on the opposite end of the madman, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as she trembled in place.

"Please don't h-hurt me—" Ember choked, her feet carrying her backwards towards the comfort of the paper-thin wall, her back softly colliding with the hard surface as she violently shook in her shoes.

The Joker's lips curled into an amused grin, the painted scars forming into an even more terrifying expression as he slowly rounded the foot of the bed, his tongue darting outward to trace his scarred bottom lip as he walked with a slight skip in his step.

"If I wan- _ted_ to hurt yah, I would've al- _ready_." He hissed, a low chuckle forming in his chest as he halted only mere inches from her, his warm breath fanning over her face as she struggled to keep her eyes on him. Truth be told, he was absolutely horrifying to look at, especially in person. Whether it be the thick, dark painted circles around his somewhat soft brown tinted eyes, or the haunting scars that destroyed his face, dressed nicely with a line of blood red paint, the entire get-up seemed to send chills down Ember's spine.

The woman flinched slightly when the blade came into contact with her collarbone, the cold material causing an array of goosebumps to litter her flesh as the man carefully traced her pertruding bone with the tip of the knife, wetting his lips tauntingly as his fingers toyed with the paper plane pendant of her silver necklace.

"Why do you- _uh_ , _close_ your _eyes_ when I'm talking to you, _hm_?" He lowly inquired, his gaze solely fixated on the charm as he turned in over between his calloused fingers, his right hand still pressing the brisk blade firmly against her skin as she twitched beneath his hold.

"You frighten me." She admitted, her eyebrows raising suspiciously at his apparent infatuation with her necklace, which still sat neatly between his paint-stained fingers, his tongue darting outward to trace the scar along his lip as he focused on the shape.

His eyes suddenly met hers, softening slightly as the paper plane toppled from his grasp, claiming its spot above her breast as his now free hand snaked behind her head, gripping tightly onto the base of it, as if to hold her in place. The knife rose to her lips, tickling the swollen flesh as she struggled to hold back a cry.

"Why do yah want to go home so _bad_ , toots? Tell me, is there- _uh_ , a _hubby_ out there lookin' for yah? Or maybe a _wifey_ , if that's what you're into?" Joker coolly spoke, his eyes avoiding hers as he intently observed the way her bottom lip quivered against his freshly sharpened blade, her flushed cheeks stained with black, mascara-tinted tears.

"If you'll take the knife out of my mouth, I'll tell you anything you want to know." Ember confidently countered.

Joker's eyebrows raised, his hands pulling from her face as he raised them in mock surrender, his thumb pressing roughly against the blade as he clicked it back into place before shoving it into his theatrical purple coat pocket.

"I'm _all ears_ , darling." He mused, planting himself firmly onto the bed, his fingers lacing together into a fist as they rest upon his lap.

Ember stood stunned against the wall, her jaw hung lowly as she observed the psychopath who sat nicely on the bed, a pleasant smile present on his face as he awaited her explanation.

"Hubby, to answer your question." She slowly began, slumping against the wall as she slid downward, her bottom colliding with the carpet floor as she cradled her legs in her arms.

Joker removed himself from his spot on the bed, taking a seat in front of it as he, too, slumped to the floor, becoming eye-level with Ember as he mimicked her stance, pulling his long legs to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. An unfamiliar sight caught Ember's eye, a tattooed set of lines that laced around the mans left wrist, peeking out from his sleeve as his tongue routinely darted outward to outline the scar on his right cheek.

"I had a hubby, anyways. I'm a widow." She whispered.

"What- _uh_ , _happened_?" He nosily pried.

"He was a nurse at Gotham General." Ember explained, her thumbs twiddling as she avoided the mans gaze.

 _Fuck_. He thought. He knew exactly where this was going.

"He was too genuine, too pure, you know? He stayed behind to make sure that all of the patients on his floor had been evacuated. He didn't make it out in time."

An unfamiliar feeling settled in The Joker's chest, his bottom lip pulling between his teeth as he suddenly became very aware of the reality of the situation: Ember's husband had died in the explosion that he had caused.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to fail him entirely. What was that feeling, that suddenly crept up on him? Could it possibly be that of remorse, a feeling he hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity?

"If it isn't obvious enough, that is why I hate you so fucking much." Ember lowly spoke, her head plummeting into her knees as she hid her reddening face, the painful memories of the GCPD reporting Noah's death to her was almost overwhelming.

"You _hate_ me?" Joker spoke through gritted teeth, his hand suddenly cradling the closed knife that lay in his pocket. That familiar sense of darkness suddenly overcame him once again.

"Tremendously." She spoke, but immediately regretted the statement when the man was on her once again, her head harshly colliding with the wall as his thumb and forefinger painfully cupped her jaw, his nose tickling hers as he crouched dangerously close.

"If you have _no one_ , why are you so afrai- _d_ of _dying_?"

He squeezed her chin harder, emitting a cry from her as her hands came into contact with his chest, desperately attempting to shove him off of her.

Ember's eyelids squeezed shut once more, refusing to look at the man who sat so unbelivably close to her.

" _LOOK. AT. ME_!" His voice boomed, lowering several octaves as it resonated deep throughout her bones, his hand shaking against her face as he grew livid with rage.

"You're _lucky_ I don't skin you _alive_." Joker hissed in her ear, his hand forcefully shoving her jaw backwards as her skull collided with the wall, her hand instantly darting upwards to massage the tender skin as hot tears fell from her closed eyes.

With that, his hold on her loosened, the sound of his lips smacking together irritably faded into the distance as the bedroom door slammed shut, the noise causing her to flinch in fear as she completely came undone.


	5. V

"A joker is a little fool who is different from everyone else. He's not a club, diamond, heart, or spade. He's not an eight or a nine, a king or a jack. He is an outsider. He is placed in the same pack as the other cards, but he doesn't belong there. Therefore, he can be removed without anybody missing him."

—Jostein Gaarder

* * *

"Pizza, anyone?" Spalding offered, his crooked nose shoved into the single printed page of coupons as he irritably tapped his foot against the tile floor, his back lounging against the counter as Horton picked aimlessly away at the skin around his nails.

"Not hungry." The blonde boy grumbled.

"Well, I am. Pineapple on mine, please." Bleaker requested, a dull knife held loosely in his grasp as he inspected the rusted blade intently, turning it over several times in search of minimal rust.

"Where'd you find that garbage? Boss would have a heartattack if he saw such an abused knife." Horton snickered, his gaze flickering quickly between the blade between Bleaker's fingers and the dead skin upon his own.

"Left for dead out back. I think it has potential." Bleaker blandly replied.

"So whose gonna ask the sad whore and the boss if they want pizza too?"

"Fuck, Bleaker. Why do you call her that?" Horton scolded, slumping against the wall as he slid onto the floor, his aching muscles suddenly relaxing as he lounged.

"Isn't it obvious? The boss has to be fucking her. He kicked me out yesterday and closed the door. What else would he have done with her?"

"Talk to her? I dunno, just a thought." Spalding countered, his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as he retrieved his phone from his pocket.

"With the rack on that bitch, I highly doubt it. I'm almost certain he's getting his dick wet."

Horton visibly cringed, the visuals of someone pleasing the Joker that wasn't him made a sense of jealousy stir inside of him.

"Oh, stop it, Hort. He wouldn't want you sucking his dick anyways."

"Whose _dick_ are we _re-fer-ring_ to?" A sing-song voice asked.

Their blood suddenly ran cold.

"W-Would you like pizza, sir?" Bleaker stuttered, the blade tumbling from his fingers as it loudly collided with the tile.

Joker's gaze followed the knife closely, his painted eyebrows raising in suspicion as he ran a hand through his newly colored flourescent green hair.

"I'm more curious whose _dick_ we're openly dis- _cussing_." He pressed, trudging towards a shaking Horton, who'd shot up rather quickly from his position on the floor, cowering now by the island counter as his boss slowly approached him.

"Your hair looks good, boss." Horton breathed, a slight tremble in his speech as he gripped firmly onto the counter. If Bleaker admitted the mans feelings towards the Joker, his throat would possibly be slit in an instant.

The Joker pat Horton roughly three times on the shoulder in response, kneeling over to claim the dropped knife at Bleaker's feet before straightening back up, his gaze glued to the rusted metal as his jaw hung lowly.

"Wha- _t_ were your _plans_ , Bleaker? Were you going to _stab_ me with this sorry ex- _cuse_ for a knife while I slep- _t_?" Joker mused.

A snort vibrated through Spalding's nose, Joker's gaze darkening as it flickered in the bald mans direction.

"What's so _funny_ , Spalding?"

"I just imagined you and Bleaker in a fight, and fuck, it was so pitiful. Bleaker would cry like a little girl."

A giggle fell from the Joker's lips, his hold around the rusted knife tightening as the giggle crescendoed into a high-pitched cackle, Bleaker's face contorting into that of immense worry as the man heartily laughed in front of him, his hand cupping onto his stomach as he struggled to contain his fits of laughter.

The laughter slowly died down, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as he waved the knife in Spalding's direction, his lips pulled into a tight smile as occasional giggles fell from his lips.

"That was a _good_ one, Spaldin- _g_!" He exclaimed. "He knows the _squealers_ when he sees them, too."

"You're a _squealer_ , Bleaker." He added, his voice low and menacing as he thrust the rusted knife in the mans direction.

Bleaker flinched, nearly jumping backward onto the kitchen sink in an attempt to flee from the knife pointed in his direction.

The Joker broke into another spurt of manic laughter, the back of his hand wiping against his cheeks to rid the tears that fell from his eyes, smearing the greasepaint in the process as he doubled over in amusement.

" _See_!" He joyously exclaimed.

"Fucking _squealer_."

The knife tumbled from his grasp, meeting the floor once more as he backed away, glancing curiously in Horton's direction as he intently licked his lips.

"None of that pineapple bull- _shit_ on my pizza." He spoke, taking one long look at a quivering Horton before exiting the room.

He trudged menacingly in the direction of Ember's bedroom, his head hung low as he uttered several profanities under his breath. He recently had the dying urge to sink his knife deeply into Bleaker's neck, but he needed a somewhat good excuse to do so. The boy was a fucking douche, and he was growing extremely tired of his shit. One more slip up, and he'd finally off him.

Joker's knuckles collided harshly with the wood of Ember's room, his breath hitching in his throat when it suddenly swung open, revealing a rather disheveled, puffy-eyed Ember, still wearing the same matted overalls from the day he knicked her.

"I- _uh_ , need to ge- _t_ you some new clothes, sweet _pea_." He kindly observed.

"Yeah, I feel disgusting wearing this everyday. It's muddy and sweaty and bloody—" She rambled, but he was beginning to grow impatient.

"Do you want _pizza_?" He spat, his cheek tugged tightly between his teeth as he avoided her puzzled expression.

"Yeah." She said.

"Grea- _t_." Joker spoke through hooded eyes, his hands fiddling with the wallet chain that clung to his belt buckle, his wrist tattoo claiming Ember's attention.

"What does the inside of your wrist say?" She inquired.

The Joker rose a painted eyebrow, his gaze darting downward towards his left wrist, where permanent ink circled the skin.

"It spells _KAOS_ ," He blandly explained, his lips suddenly tugging upward into a haunting grin as he leaned towards the woman, her limbs freezing in fear as his lips skimmed her left ear, his right hand darting upwards to cup her jaw.

"I'm an _agent_ of chaos, darlin."

Ember stood frozen beneath his grasp, the unfamiliar feeling of his nose against her earlobe sent her into a fearful frenzy. She hated him, absolutely loathed him for what he indirectly did to her Noah. If she had it her way, she'd sink his favorite knife so deeply into his chest that he'd feel the pain that she felt when she lost her beloved.

"D'yah still ha- _te_ me, toots?" He hissed, his torso pressed firmly up against hers as he enveloped her in his arms, his nose nuzzling into her neck as he inhaled her scent. She smelled like chocolate with a hint of strawberries.

 _Odd shampoo scent._

"Yes." She seethed, her hands pressing firmly against his chest in an attempt to pry his tall frame from her rather tiny one. "Get off of me."

He retracted his face from her neck, his once soft brown eyes contorted into a deep shade of black as his fingers tightly clamped down on her jaw, a whine of pain falling from her lips as he grit his teeth in fury.

"I give you a _bed_ ," He seethed, his tongue darting outward like a snake to wet his lips before returning quickly to its home inside of his mouth. "I give you ho- _t_ water, I give you _refuge_ , and you repay me by hat- _ing_ me?"

"You killed my fucking husband! I have every right to despise you! Why does it matter what I think of you!"

 _It fucking matters._

Joker thrust her head backwards in response, his eyebrows furrowed together as he fished his switchblade from his pocket, flicking open the blade with the pad of his thumb as Ember's breath suddenly caught in her throat.

"Fiesty little _fucker_." He spoke lowly, the tip of his blade toying with the paper plane pendant that lay upon her heaving chest. "Tell me, _Ember_ , do you really _think_ that anyone has even noticed your ab- _sence_?"

Ember's throat went dry.

"You know, I'm willing to be- _t_ that your job merely thinks you pulled a no- _call_ no- _show_ , and have already _replaced_ you."

The blade slithered down her chest, resting nicely above her breast as she struggled to breathe beneath his touch, his dark eyes boring deeply into hers as he sucked diligently on his cheek.

"Do yah even have any _friends_ , Ember?" Joker taunted, trailing the knife further down on her skin at an agonizing pace, his knuckles slowly peeling back the thin fabric of her shirt, exposing the very tip of her lace pink bra.

" _Oho_ ," He sung, a giggle falling from his lips. "How'd yah know I like _lace_?"

"Get your fucking hands off of me!" Ember exclaimed, shoving his prying touch away from her chest as his mouth formed into an "o" shape, the blade twirling between his ungloved fingers as he chuckled lowly.

"I thought _my_ jokes were bad, _toots_." He mocked, lacing his fingers tightly around her wrist as he tugged her from the doorway, slamming her roupghly against the nearby wall as he pressed his body firmly against hers.

Her skull collided with the wall, sending a wave of stars through her vision as the coolness of the blade returned, only this time, it was on her neck, as if he were preparing her for slaughter.

She squeezed her eyes closed as he stood dreadfully close, his nose pressed firmly against hers, leaving behind a blob of sweaty, white greasepaint on the tip of her pointed nose.

"Whether you like it or no- _t_ , you're _mine_ , sweet hear- _t_ , and I can put my hands _wherever_ I please."

A squeal left her lips as his left arm suddenly snaked around her waist, bucking her hips forward to meet his as she refused to open her eyes, her head turning away to avoid the feeling of his face on hers. He only grew irritated by her actions, his thumb gripping tightly onto her chin to redirect her face, the knife skimming over her cheek slightly as he squeezed her chin.

"I'll never be yours." She breathed, her eyes slowly fluttering open as they met a pair of hauntingly beautiful brown orbs, only inches from hers.

"As long as that plane sits around your n- _eck_ , you are." He whispered, his lips grazing hers ever so slightly before retracting his hold entirely, the blade snapping back into place as he turned on his heel and let her be.

Ember collapsed against the wall, her knees buckling beneath her as she slowly sunk to the floor.

 _Maybe she was better off dead._

Four AM.

Ember lay wide awake, her features illuminated by the bright red numbers of the digital clock beside the bed as she curled herself into a miniscule ball.

The muddy overalls still clung to her figure, her belly full of pepperoni pizza as she twirled the paper plane pendant between her fingers.

She'd worn it every single day for the past twenty years, only removing it occasionally to shower, or to polish the silver.

As she fiddled the charm between her fingers, she desperately wondered why the Joker was so obsessed with the piece of jewelry that lay upon her chest.

 _As long as that necklace is around your neck, you're mine._

She cringed heavily at the thought, his voice echoing in her head as she frantically tried to push it away. She wanted him dead, more so than herself.

A harsh knock came at the door, her insides churning as she cowered further into the blankets.

 _Maybe if she pretends she's asleep, they'll go away..._

The knock came again, louder and more urgent, along with a grunt as the handle jiggled.

Her eyes flew shut, squeezing together tightly as she buried her face in her pillow, avoiding the individual who entered the room.

"I know you're _awake_." Joker snipped, the bed dipping down as he placed something heavy onto the mattress.

Ember lifted an eyelid, observing the two black gym bags that sat at the foot of the bed, along with a painted face clown, a scowl present on his features as he wore a plain black t-shirt and jeans.

It was rather odd, really, to see the man wear anything but his typical get-up. Underneath all that makeup, the Joker was actually just a man.

"What's this?" She asked, her fingers darting outward to encapture the zipper.

" _Open_ them." He grunted, kicking his foot aimlessly at the ground as he avoided her puzzled expression.

She held her breath, glancing wearily at the man before thrusting the zipper open, a mess of familiar clothing tumbling from the bag as her jaw fell open.

"Are these my clothes?"

"Uh, _yeah_."

"How did you know where I live..?" Ember questioned, an eyebrow raised as her favorite mahogany laced top flowed between her fingers. She pulled it close to her face, the soft material gliding over her lips as she inhaled the familiar scent of her laundry detergent.

"I- _uh_ , _know_ a guy." Joker grinned, his tongue routinely darting outward to wet his lips rather obnoxiously.

"Your lips must be extremely chapped," Ember chuckled, prying a pair of pajamas from the bag as she shuffled out of the bed. Joker's eyebrows raised quizzically. "You know, since you lick them so fucking much." She quickly finished, feeling a bit awkward for pointing out his obvious tick.

"I don't li- _ck_ them _that_ much." He defended, his arms crossing as he struggled to contain a smile. He wasn't entirely sure why he licked his lips so much, he'd done it for as long as he could remember. It was as if he needed to feel the shape of his scars, to remember the pain he'd gone through so many years ago... the pain that sent him over the edge for good.

"Okay." She quietly mocked, heading towards the bathroom that sat connected to the room.

"Where are you- _uh_ , _going_?"

"I'm changing out of these muddy overalls." She simply said, pulling the door open as she switched on the light, illuminating Joker's messily painted face as he eyed her intently.

"Ah, man. I was- _uh_ , _hoping_ I could maybe wa- _tch_." He grinned, her features contorting into a look of disgust as she slammed the door closed.

An amused sigh escaped the mans lips, his bare fingers trailing over the worn gym bags. He felt like an entirely different person when Ember DeLoughrey was around.

 _She made him weak._


	6. VI

"Enough madness? Enough? And how do you measure madness?"

—Grant Morrison

* * *

Ember didn't get much sleep that night.

Although she was fairly comfortable in her favorite pair of teal and white checkered pajamas, everytime she closed her eyes, Noah's dead body flooded her mind.

They'd required her to identify the body. He was nearly unrecognizable, half of his body severely charred by the explosion, his skin melted off in several spots, empty eyes agape in fear. She could still remember the shiny black wedding band that sat neatly perched on his finger, a finger that had be deteriorated to nothing but muscle.

Painful sobs wracked through her chest as she screamed into the pillow, her hands clenching into fists as she relived the worst memory of her life... a memory that was only aged a whopping six months.

Everyone seemed to leave after Noah died. Her adoptive parents stopped calling, her friends did too. Nobody wanted to spend time with the sad, thirty-year-old widow. No one wanted the burden.

All Ember ever would be, was a burden. Her birth parents didn't want her, her friends didn't want her.

No one would ever want her.

The Joker sat at his desk, his bare face in his hands as he tapped his foot irritably.

Several photographs of the infamous Batman illuminated the computer screen, articles upon articles questioning his whereabouts following Harvey Dent's death on display.

"Batsy, Batsy, Bat- _sy_." The madman sighed, his fingers shuffling through the stacks of papers covering the surface in search of something, anything to lead him to the masked man.

" _Fuck_." He grumbled, his gaze flickering over to the clock.

Five-thirty AM.

An hour and a half ago, he'd given Ember two gym bags full of her own clothing. She, however, would hopefully never find out about the mess he made in her house, the photographs of herself and her hubby mutilated, his eyes blacked out in the frames, along with a red smile covering his lips.

He'd perfectly staged her departure. A typed note had been mailed to the little boutique she worked out, by the name of Charlie's, announcing her official resignation.

To Gotham, Ember Laine DeLoughrey no longer existed. She'd simply up and left, migrated to a new life in a new city, courtesy of her husband Noah's untimely death.

If all went well, Joker and his men would be terrorizing the streets of Gotham tonight, and he could hardly wait. The thought of him causing mischief for the first time in over half a year actually made his dick quite hard.

Maybe... just _maybe_... if he caused just enough mischief, a Batman would come out to play...

He giggled quietly at the thought, a black ink ball-point pen held between his thumb and pointer finger as he scribbled several potential " _plans_ " in the margins of a lined slip of paper, a grunt escaping his lips as he hastily crossed it out almost immediately, the pen toppling from his grasp as it collided with the wood of the desk.

"Do I really look like a _guy_ with a _plan_?" He muttered to himself, swiping several slips of paper aside with his palms as they toppled to the ground, his feet carrying him quickly in the direction of the bathroom connected to his room.

His gaze fixated on the reflection in the toothpaste splattered mirror, his legs locking into place in front of the sink as his eyebrows furrowed together in deep concentration.

Joker's ungloved fingers crept upwards towards his bare complexion, deep black bags cupping his eyes from a mixture of lack of sleep and black greasepaint stains.

His thumb glided over the deep indents of the scar imprinted in the flesh of his left cheek, the ragged edges of the destroyed tissue sliding between his fingers as he attentively studied the deformity.

"Fucking _ugly_." Joker seethed, his bottom lip quivering with rage as sudden images of that dreadful event came crashing onto him, his knees nearly buckling in angst as his fists tore at his greasy, green mangled curls.

" _No, no, no, no, no_..." He muttered, a strand of unaudible words tumbling from his lips as he vigorously shook his head.

 _What was the matter with him?_

He needed to kill somebody, and fast, before he lost his mind entirely.

Six-thirty AM.

Gotham's highways were packed with an abundance of vehicles, occasional horns honking irritably as several individuals realized that they'd undoubtebly be late for work.

The Joker sat in a deserted alleyway, just outside the Narrows as he picked mindlessly at his fingernails, his face covered solely by the blackness of his hoodie's hood as he patiently awaited the return of a man named Billy, who apparently had been residing on the streets for fifteen years. This morning, Billy would finally be put out of his misery.

He tapped his foot expeditiously, his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as his favorite switchblade rubbed up against his outer thigh through the thin pocket of his jeans.

It was a bit peculiar for him to wear this type of outfit in public, but he was still freshly escapen from Arkham, and had absolutely no desire to return, especially so soon. Even his face remain bare, not a lick of greasepaint present as he sucked impatiently on the inside of his scars.

"Hey!" A deep voice barked from the entrance of the alley.

Joker's gaze darkened, his scars tugging upwards into a menacing grin as he slowly rose from his spot on the grimey ground, the palms of hands promptly dusting off his bottom as he rid the material of the dirt.

"Can I help you?" Joker called, careful not to get carried away and use his typical tone. Instead, he'd taken a lighter approach: using his genuine, deep voice, one that only rarely came out, and hardly ever to his men. Unbeknownst to them, this side of the man simply didn't exist.

"I believe this is my alley, douche." A pudgy man threatened, his thick neck tucked deeply into his grey turtleneck, his dirty blonde hair thrown astray from the wind as he shuffled towards a heap of objects, ranging from empty food cartons to collectibles.

"Billy, is i- _t_?" Joker pried, his tone shifting slightly as he over-enunciated his " _t_ ".

His hand shoved deeply into his pocket, twirling the closed blade between his fingers as he awaited the proper moment to strike.

"Fuck off, creep." Billy grunted, plopping his fatass onto the ground as he unwrapped a half eaten sub. Lucky for Joker, the sun had yet to rise, and the shadows of the alley had obstructed the mans view of his face.

"Yah _know_ ," Joker began, that high pitched voice tumbling from his lips once again as Billy paused mid-bite, his eyebrow raising in familiarity as he observed the stranger fiddling with something in his pant pocket.

"You're pretty- _uh_ , _fat_ for a homeless m- _an_." Joker dryly joked, the switchblade emerging from his pocket as his thumb quickly flicked open the blade.

Billy opened his mouth to shout in protest, but the Joker had already clamped his palm over the beefy mans face, squeezing his cheeks between his fingers as he knelt before the trembling man.

Billy mumbled inaudibly beneath Joker's fingers, his eyes widening in fear when he suddenly felt the cold tip of the small knife against his forearm.

"It looks like you're in a bi- _t_ of an _un-for-tu-nate_ situ- _ation_ , my friend." Joker mocked, the hand clutching the blade darting upwards towards his face as he swiftly pried the hood from his head, a mess of flourescent curls falling into his eyes as Billy got a good look at his prominent scars.

The man cried out beneath Joker, his thick fingers darting upwards to attempt to pry the mans hand from his mouth.

Joker only mockingly chuckled, his knife quickly gliding against the skin of Billy's hand, splitting it open with ease as he cried outward in pain, muffled heavily by the clamped hand that prevented any sound from escaping the alley.

"Typically, I like to have a _liiiittle_ fun with my toys, but I'll make this nice and _quick_." He promised.

Billy opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced immediately by the blade penetrating the beefy flesh of his neck, slicing through the crochet turtleneck as if it were butter.

"Nighty _niiiight_..." Joker taunted, twisting the blade further into the mans neck as fresh, warm blood coated his hand, seeping through his fingers like water as he marveled at the feeling, his eyes rolling backwards in his head as he let out a satisfied groan.

"Fu- _ck_." Joker moaned, pulling his bloodied knife from the lifeless man as he drained out onto the sidewalk, a sense of euphoria overcoming the Joker as he closely observed the life drain from the man, his eyes staring blankly back at his scarred face.

Once he was fully satisfied with his first kill in half a year, he wiped the blade of his knife clean against Billy's sweater, his tongue darting outward to wet his lips as he clicked the blade back into place and quickly discarded it into his pant pocket once more.

Joker rose from his kneeling position, the bones in his legs cracking slightly as he stretched outward, his fingers lacing around the fabric of his hood before pulling it over his hair once more, shielding his face from view as he stuffed his hands into his sweatshirt pocket and pranced away from the scene.

It was nearly sunup, and he was thirty minutes from home, makeup-less and dressed a bit too casually for his liking.

He'd knicked Spalding's 1982 Mustang from the front lawn, avoiding taking the van as it would probably draw a bit too much attention to himself, especially in this neck-of-the-woods.

The palm of his hand rest on the door of the vehicle, the top tucked nicely into the trunk as he effortlessly swung his legs over the door, landing perfectly in place on the leather seat as he readjusted himself, a giggle falling from his lips as he landed incorrectly on his groin.

Images of the dead homeless man, Billy, suddenly filled his deranged head, the visual of him slowly bleeding out onto the concrete made Joker's dick twitch in his jeans, his tongue darting outward to trace the outline of his scarred bottom lip, thrusting the keys into the ignition as the engine roared to life.

It was rather exhilirating, being out in the open with a clean face. He was a wanted man, and yet here he was, just on the outskirts of the Narrows, reclined in a classic convertible Mustang as he peeled the car from the entrance of the alleyway, not looking back as he sped away from the scene.

Suddenly, Ember's face bombarded his mind, his knuckles clutching the steering wheel tightly as they turned bright white.

She was effortlessly flawless; her platinum blonde hair flowing neatly past her shoulders, waving slightly at the ends, curling inward to cup her heart-shaped face. Ember wasn't a natural blonde, as her natural roots began to peek through slightly, drastically different in color as they were nearly black in hue.

Her lips were almost always chapped, and Joker suddenly considered slinking into the gas station that appeared on his left, knicking an energy drink and a tube of chapstick for his toy.

Her eyes were dull, brown in color, like his. Nearly an identical shade, but hers would fluxuate between light and dark depending on her mood, he'd noticed. Her mood the past several days, however, was that of loneliness.

 _And she fucking hated him._

Before he knew it, he was thrusting the gear shift into park, unlatching his seatbelt as he climbed from the vehicle, his hands stuffing into his sweatshirt pockets once more as he jostled the door of the gas station open with his elbow, a small bell chiming overhead as the small Indian woman behind the counters gaze flickered upwards to meet his.

Joker turned his head quickly, avoiding her prying eyes as he shuffled between heavily lined shelves, his eyes focusing on a small section of chapsticks as he snatched a random one, licking his lips as he, too, noticed that he could also use a tube. Irritably, he grabbed a pack of two before exiting the aisle and retrieving an energy drink from the refrigerator.

He wasn't entirely in the mood to outrun the cops this early in the morning, so he sighed heavily before approaching the counter, his hooded head hung low as he placed the two items next to the register, his hand darting into his pant pocket to remove his wallet.

The tiny woman quietly scanned his items, clearing her throat uncomfortably before requesting three dollars from the man.

He shoved a five into her palm, grunting something along the lines of " _keep the change_ " as he ripped the plastic bag containing his purchased items from the counter before swiftly abandoning the establishment.

 _Ember's lucky she's pretty_. He thought, his gaze lingering on the tubes of chapstick as the engine roared to life once more.


	7. VII

"The reason I talk to myself is because I'm the only one whose answers I accept."

—George Carlin

* * *

Ember shifted uncomfortably in the bed, her back beginning to ache from laying in one spot for hours and hours on end.

She was disgustingly bored, the time creeping away as she continued to daydream, an undying desire to write down some of the poetry that she'd been harvesting in her brain over the past few days overcoming her.

The boxspring creaked beneath her weight as she shifted into a sitting position, her fists rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she propelled herself from the mattress, her feet dragging her towards the closed door as she pried it open.

The familiar low voices of Joker's henchmen resonated through her bones as she crept around the beaten sofas, her fingers gliding over the cracked leather as she sucked diligently on her bottom lip.

The disheveled kitchen suddenly came into sight, the three men hunched heavily over the island counter as they scribbled on what appeared to be an overly large map of Gotham City.

"Excuse me?" Ember squeaked, her feet freezing into place outside the threshold of the room as she shivered slightly.

None of the men turned around.

"Uh, excuse me?" She called, the volume of her voice increasing slightly as an exasperated sigh escaped Bleaker's lips, his shoulders hunching in irritation as his neck craned backwards, beady eyes glaring in her direction.

"What?"

"Do you guys have any paper and pencils?" She innocently wondered.

Bleaker redirected his gaze, focusing once again on the map on the counter as he groaned "ask the boss" in response.

Ember's heartbeat accelerated, her hands trembling as she shuffled towards the hallway which lead to the madmans room, her heart thumping painfully in her throat as she slowly approached the familiar deep purple tinted door.

The undertones of rather loud music vibrated through the walls, the bass nearly compressing her chest as she shakily knocked against the wood.

"Joker?" She croaked, her knuckles rapping against the painted wood several times, emitting no response as the music resonated through her bones.

Several unanswered moments passed by, and Ember decided to toy with the handle of the door, turning it slowly until it clicked open.

Her breath hitched in her throat, the door creaking open as Joker's apparently vacant room came into view, "Scars" by the band Papa Roach filling her ears as she loudly gulped.

 _That's fitting._

"Mister Joker?" She questioned, her voice low and shaky as her eyes roamed the room, her fingertips grazing along the stack of papers that littered his desk, amusing doodles of what seemed to be Batman pranced across several pages. Her lips pulled into a smirk at the rather childish pictures, a blob of purple chasing after the blob of black as they scurried across the pages.

A low, muffled grunt broke her from her trance, her eyebrows raising in curiousity and she followed the sound, her feet leading her to the bathroom that sat attached to his bedroom.

"Mister Jo—" She began, her fingers slowly pushing open the door. The air escaped her lungs the moment she saw him, his feet planted firmly in front of the sink, his neck rolled back on his shoulders as the adams apple in his throat shifted with every sound, his eyes screwed shut in ecstacy as throaty groans escaped his parted painted lips as Ember's eyes trailed downwards towards his...

 _Oh my_.

A yelp escaped her lips, her hands immediately flying upwards to cover her eyes, but it was too late. She'd seen _all of him._

Joker's eyelids immediately flew open, the warm, tight feeling in his abdomen immediately vanishing as his gaze met a cowering Ember in the doorway, her hands clamped tightly over her eyes as she began to back out of the room, tripping over her own feet as she toppled to the ground.

He stood stunned at the sink, his jaw slack as his brain struggled to process what the actual fuck was going on.

Once he'd finally crashed back down to Earth, he quickly tucked himself back into his jeans, wincing in discomfort as he struggled to adjust his half-hard self.

"Wha- _t_ the _fuck_..." He breathed.

"I-I'm so sorry Mister Joker—" Ember rambled, seated on the floor as her hands didn't dare to move from her face.

"Jes- _us_ , Ember. Talk about fuckin' _blue balls_." He groaned, shuffling towards her slowly.

She cowered at the sound of his nearing footsteps, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes as she whimpered.

"Please don't kill me." She pitifully begged.

Joker raised an eyebrow, a sincere chuckle tumbling from his lips as his hands darted outwards, his fingers lacing around her wrists as he forcefully tugged them from her face.

Her eyes were wild, her pupils dialating as they adjusted to the sudden light as he licked his lips intently, his hands still grasping her wrists as she trembled beneath him.

" _Now_ ," He sang, suddenly becoming very aware of the switchblade in his front jean pocket. "I _really_ have to ki- _ll_ you."

His fingers claimed her jaw, gripping onto the skin as her eyes brimmed with tears. He sunk to his knees before her, his free hand fishing the knife from his pocket as he flicked open the blade, Ember's heart stopping at the sound.

"Sweet _pea_ , don't _cry_." He taunted mockingly, replacing his fingers with the blade, resting it softly against her chin as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against her ear as she squirmed in fright beneath his hold.

"D- _id_ you li- _ke_ what you- _uh_ , _saw_ , toots?" He hummed, his warm breathing fanning over her neck, causing an array of goosebumps to rise on the skin.

"I promise it won't happen again, s-sir." Ember stammered, squeezing her eyes closed tightly as his head dipped downward, his scarred lips grazing the goosebumps on her neck as she flinched at the sudden contact.

"It's al- _right_ ," He cooed, a giggle tumbling from his lips as his knife pressed into her bottom, quivering lip. "I want you to _watch_."

The room began to spin, and Ember felt suddenly ill from a mixture of Joker's inappropriate comments. The music in the background suddenly becoming noisier as she desperately tried to ease her jumbled mind.

"Please let me go." She begged.

Joker shifted his position, his face inches from hers as he lowered the knife.

"You're _lucky_ I'm a gentle- _man_ , toots. Otherwise, I'd perch yah _up_ on that counter and _do_ some _pre-e-e-tty_ _naughty_ things to yah." Joker whispered, his gaze settling upon her lips as she whimpered beneath his touch.

"You're a fucking _freak_." She spat, cowering away from him as he visibly tensed before her, his jaw falling slack as anger boiled in his veins.

" _No_ , I'm no- _t_."

His tongue toyed with the inside of his bottom lip, thrusting it outward slightly as he screwed his eyes tightly shut in fury.

 _Don't kill her don't kill her don't kill her._

"Ge- _t_ out of my sigh- _t_." He suddenly barked, quickly standing to his feet and shoving the closed switchblade back into his pocket.

Ember sat frozen on the floor, her legs resembling a batch of goo as she choked back hefty sobs.

"For fucks _sake_ ," Joker grumbled, grabbing tightly onto the skin of her forearms as he yanked her upwards. " _Go_."

She obeyed, darting from the room without another word as she slammed his bedroom door closed behind her, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

"So, were just going to leave her here?" Bleaker prodded, his hands fiddling with the magazine of his AKM, a string of bullets laced in his palm as he retracted the empty mag and loaded it cautiously, snapping it back into place and flicking the safety on.

"Uh, _yes_." Joker raised an eyebrow, his shoulders hunched as he bent over the island counter, his fingers tracing the outlines of their scribbles on the Gotham City map as he sucked harshly on the inside of his scars.

"What if she tries to escape?" Bleaker pressed, earning an irritated grin from the madman.

"She _won't_. She knows _damn_ well that I'll find her and make her _scream_." He grumbled, pressing his palms firmly against the counter as he thrust himself backwards, shuffling towards the refrigerator as he pried the doors open, retrieving a bottle of whiskey and setting it down on the counter. "Grab the sho- _t_ glasses, will yah, _Spalding_?"

"Yes, sir." Spalding monotonely replied, gently opening the cabinet doors as he knicked four clean glasses from the shelf, placing them on top of the littered map.

" _Al-right-y_ , men. To- _night_ is going to be a fuck- _ing_ _blast_." Joker cheered, his lips curled into an amused grin as he tore the top from the bottle, messily pouring the liquid into each glass.

"Try not to _die_." He giggled, lifting his shot glass in the air as his henchmen retrieved theirs, clinking the glass together in cheers before tossing their heads back and downing the alcohol in one gulp.

"Al- _right_ , I'm- _uh_ , _goin_ ' to go check on the girl- _ah_." Joker awkwardly stuttered, nodding his head curtly before exiting the room, humming an unidentifiable tune under his breath.

Her door was closed, but Joker wasted no time in thrusting it open, not even bothering to knock. It was his house, after all.

Ember lay belly down on the bed, her ankles crossed as she swayed them back and forth in the air, her toes colliding with the headboard when she swung them back a bit too far.

"Uh," Joker began, slightly appalled by the mess of papers that surrounded her frame, a pen laced between her fingers as she neatly etched writing onto an additional page. "What's all _this_?"

"Bleaker got me some paper and a pen. I'm bored." She simply stated, not daring to tear her gaze from the page as Joker slowly approached the bed.

His eyebrows furrowed as his hips pressed against the side of the mattress, his gloved fingers darting outward to encapture a discarded page as he slowly lifted it from the sheets.

"A _fan_ of poet- _ry_ , are we?" He lightly mused, his eyes scanning over the surprisingly neat penmanship that littered the page, the name: "E. E. Cummings" scribbled at the top of the page, along with a title, "I Carry Your Heart With Me".

His jaw fell ajar, unable to formulate a sentence when Ember finally broke the silence.

"My first love read that poem to me when I was a teenager. He told me he loved me right after." She blandly explained.

"What a _loser_." Joker said snidely, earning a rather pissy glare from the woman. " _Ah_ , tha- _t_ made yah _look_ at me!"

"I'm still scarred from what I saw earlier." She admitted.

"Sorry, _doll_. A man- _uh_ , has his _needs_."

"Why are you in here?" She abruptly inquired, her pen halting in place on the paper as she avoided his gaze.

"The boys and I are- _uh_ , going _out_." He explained, shuffling the paper between his grasp as he loudly cleared his throat and began to read.

" _Here_ is the _root_ of the _root_ and the bu- _d_ of the bud and the sk- _y_ of the _sky_ of a tree calle- _d_ life," He began, an eyebrow raising as he gauged Ember's reaction. She lay motionless on the bed, holding her breath as he continued to read.

"Whi- _ch_ grows high- _er_ than soul ca- _n_ hope or _mind_ can _hide_. And this is the won- _der_ that's keeping the stars ap- _art_." He licked his scars intently. Ember still hadn't breathed.

"I carr- _y_ your _heart_ , I carry it in m- _y_ heart."

Silence.

Neither of them said a word for several agonizing minutes, the paper still held firmly between his fingers as he glared at a frozen Ember, her gaze still diverted towards the wall, away from him.

"Well," He began.

" _That_ was fucking _stupid_."

"Fuck you." Ember scolded, crawling upwards from her stance as she suddenly snatched the paper from his hands, holding it close to her chest as she blinked away a mess of tears. "That poem means the world to me."

"Was it- _uh_ , _Noah_ who read that to yah, _toots_? Was _he_ the first _love_ of your _life_?"

"'Course not. I met Noah when I was twenty-five." She revealed.

Joker swayed in place, an awkward tension littering the air as he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Any- _who_ ," He began.

"We're going _out_ , which means that you're _staying in_. I swear to _fuck_ , if you even _attempt_ to es- _cape_ —"

"Need I remind you that I have fucking no one, Mister Joker?" Ember blatantly interrupted. "I have no where to go anyways. My life is at a stand-still."

"Al- _righty_ , I _suppose_ that's settled, then."

"Yup." Ember replied, putting a bit more emphasis on the "p" at the end, smacking her lips together a bit theatrically, as if to mock him.

"You know, _Ember_ , you're the only person I'm- _uh_ , remote- _ly_ kin- _d_ to." Joker admitted, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could even stop them. Since when did he become such a vulnerable _softie_?

Ember openly scoffed.

"You call the way you treat me _kind_? The most 'kind' thing you've done to me is not _kill_ me."

His mouth formed into an "o" shape, anger boiling deep in his bones as he became rather pissy with the way she spoke to him.

"You've got some _balls_ to speak to me _that way_ , babygirl." He seethed, leaning forward as he rest the palms of his hands on the sheets, crinkling several slips of lined paper under his weight as Ember slightly backed away.

"I _thought_ you were _afraid_ of me."

Ember leaned inward, her nose grazing the tip of his as a burst of adrenaline coursed through her veins.

"I've seen you at your most vulnerable, Mister J. You have nothing over me now."

A deep chuckle vibrated through his chest, emerging into a nasally cackle as his hand darted outward, his fingers lacing around the fabric of her shirt as he contorted it into a tight fist, pulling her face against his as she yelped in response.

"Your _life_ is in my hands, Missus _E_." He snidely countered. "I have _no_ problem _sinking_ my knife into your pretty lit- _tle_ neck, sugar plum."

With that, he released her shirt, the thin fabric creased from the shape of his fingers as she trembled slightly in place. She was all big talk, but the moment he became physical with her, she melted into putty between his fingers.

He turned on his heel, his back suddenly facing her as he began to exit the room. Joker froze in place when her voice filled the void once again.

"W-When will you be back? I'm hungry." She squeaked.

"There's- _uh_ , cereal in the cup- _board_."

With that, he slammed the door tightly closed, returning to the three loyal men who stood inelegantly in the kitchen, an eerie silence settling upon them as soon as the boss returned.

" _Ready_?"

"Yes, sir." Horton grinned, shoving the final gun into the black gym bag before zipping it up.

"Love- _ly_. Let's pay _Com-mis-sion-er_ Gor- _don_ a visit, shall _we_?"

Ember distinctly heard the four voices die out completely through the door, the sound of the front door snapping tightly closed caused her to flinch slightly as a single tear slipped from her left eye, colliding with the paper that held her absolute favorite piece of poetry on the planet.

She could still remember the day like it was yesterday... the way the poem slipped so elegantly off his lips, how his eyes sparkled when he gauged her reaction to his confession.

She balled her hands into fists, crinkling the softened paper between her fingers as she let out a rather exhausted cry. She hated the Joker. She hated this room, and most importantly, she hated that piece of shit Bleaker who eyed her like she was a piece of meat.

The white walls were blinding, they nearly suffocated her as she slowly began to lose her goddamn mind. If she was going to be spending a fair bit of time in this hell hole, she might as well decorate a bit.

An idea suddenly dawned on her, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth as she snatched the gym bag full of her personal items between her fingers, rustling through the bag to see if Joker had picked up her makeup bag.

 _He had_.

A squeal escaped her chapped lips, her fingers rummaging through the small bag of overly priced makeup before she finally stumbled upon a tube of bright red lipstick.

" _Perfect_." She gleamed, prying off the cap before discarding it onto the carpet, twisting the lipstick upwards as she positioned herself in front of one of the plain walls, an idea dawning on her as she began to vandalize the concrete.

If she couldn't go home, the least she could do was make this nightmare feel a bit more cozy.

 **ANOTHER FREAKING AUTHORS NOTE IM SO SORRY BUT YOU SHOULD DEFINITELY READ IT:**

This chapter was honestly my absolute favorite to write thus far. I had a blast writing the scene where Ember walked in on J, which literally made me giggle like a weirdo, as well as incorporating a scene from Heath's movie "Candy". During one scene, he reads the poem "I Carry Your Heart With Me" by E. E. Cummings to Candy before he asks her to marry him (literally melts my fuckin heart every single time). I just thought it'd be funny to throw this reference in. Also, if you haven't seen this movie, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND! It is by far my favorite film of his! (Although I am having trouble imagining him reading this poem in his Joker voice because all I can hear is that deep, thick Australian accent that I love so fucking much).

Additionally, I want to apologize if the Joker seems a bit out of character in certain circumstances. There is a valid reason why he acts the way he does around Ember, which will obviously be explained very soon! Keep in mind that this story will be an origin story, so Joker has a given birth name, and the real story behind his scars will be revealed (quite soon, actually!)

Thanks for reading! Be sure to leave behind a review so I know how you're liking it! xo


	8. VIII

"Because once I didn't care about the rules anymore, I had all the power."

—Adam Glass

* * *

"East End, right boss?" Spalding confirmed, latching his seatbelt as he ignited the engine of the van.

"Uh- _huh_." Joker grumbled, crawling into the back and taking his spot on the bench.

Bleaker filed into the front seat, Horton close behind him when Joker suddenly spoke up.

"Horton," He barked.

"Yes sir?" The pudgy man squeaked, his voice slightly muffled by the plastic clown mask that shielded it.

"Back here- _ah_."

Horton's heart clenched in his chest, eyebrows raising as he observed the empty space on the bench next to the painted face man, whose lips tugged into a playful grin as the palm of his gloved hand tapped three times onto the cushion, as if to invite the man over.

" _Now_." He pressed.

"Y-Yes, sir."

Bleaker raised an eyebrow, masked by his disguise as he closed the passenger door behind him, observing closely as Horton rounded the vehicle and climbed in through the open back doors, the toe of his boot accidentally kicking one of the gym bags as he stumbled inside.

"Wa- _tch_ the _guns_ , Hort." Joker calmly scolded, scooching a bit to the side so that the man could take his spot next to him.

Horton's heart began racing in his chest the moment he slowly took his seat, furthest away from Joker as he could. The madman picked at his nails, his back hunched as he leaned forward in his seat. His pink tongue darted outward to graze his lips as he tapped his foot rapidly.

"Do you really think that Gordon will come?" Horton lightly asked, his voice uneasy as Joker eyed him.

"Let's- _ah_ , _hope so_ , Horton." He grumbled.

"I highly _doubt_ he'll- _uh_ , _turn down_ any information on the _infamous_ Joker, now _will_ he?"

Horton stirred in his seat, the van bouncing down the uneven pebbled pathway as the Joker swiftly retracted a switchblade from his pocket, flicking open the blade with his gloved thumb as he turned it over in his palms, inspecting the keen cutting edge of the knife as his gaze flickered over towards the trembling henchman on his right.

"What're yah all- _uh_ , _jumpy_ for?" He pried, an eyebrow raised as he twirled the blade between his fingers. Spalding and Bleaker remained dead silent in the front seat.

"It's n-nothing, sir." Horton stuttered.

" _Horty-Hort-Hort-Hort-on_." Joker muttered under his breath, suddenly shifting back in his seat as he straightened his shoulders, rotating his hips sideways so that he could face the man a bit more fully. "Y'know, yah kinda re- _mind_ me of this- _uh_ , _kid_ I used to know."

Horton's heart hammered in his chest, Joker's eyes boring into his as he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"He had a lot- _ta_ _po-ten-tial_ , like your- _self_." Joker lightly spoke, poking the tip of his blade with his finger as he wet his lips.

Horton's chest tightened at his actions. God, it drove him absolutely wild when he licked his lips like that...

"H-Had? Is he dead?" He spluttered.

" _Yup_." Joker shrugged, his lips closing tightly together before opening back up rather quickly to emphasize the "p" at the end, creating a popping noise as he diverted his gaze from the shaking henchman. "Called me a _freak_."

"You're not a freak, sir." Horton rambled, observing closely as the Joker's lips widened, a stupid grin plastered on his face as he reached over, patting the man roughly on the shoulder as he froze beneath his touch.

"Thanks- _uh, pal_." Joker grumbled, an eyebrow raising once more at Horton's peculiar reaction to his touch.

 _Why was he so damn jumpy with him?_

"Y-You're welcome, sir."

"So," Bleaker began, growing a bit uncomfortable with Horton and Joker's interaction as he twisted in his spot, slinging his arm over the bench of the seat so that he could face the men seated in the back. "Let's walk through the plan once again?"

* * *

Ember bit harshly on her bottom lip, so much so that she began to draw blood as she scribbled onto the white walls, the lipstick beginning to run low as she finally finished pasting "I Carry Your Heart With Me" onto the wall.

She felt slightly awful for adoring this poem, along with the memory associated with it. She'd loved her Noah with all her heart, but there was something about this poem that would make her feel a way that Noah could never make her.

The sudden memory of her walking in on Joker flooded her mind, her eyes squeezing tightly shut until she saw stars as she desperately tried to shove the visuals away.

It was rather odd to see him— _like that_.

He's the fucking Joker for fucks sake! He murders people without remorse. He fucking stabs people in the neck and plays in their blood. And yet, she kept seeing glimpses of him that proved further that he was simply human. It was wild to know that someone as deranged as himself could be capable of something so... normal. Of course, he was a fucking guy, and men do have their needs...

 _She'd seen the fucking Joker's dick._

Ember openly scoffed, shaking her head violently as if it'd rid the images from her brain.

Although he provided her with food, had given her her own clothing, as well as clean sheets and a bed to sleep on, she still couldn't stand the fucker. Besides the fact that he was a psychopathic murderer, he was just plain sinister. Maybe it was the ugly ass makeup he wore...

 _What did he look like without it?_

She'd emptied the tube of lipstick mid-word, a defeated sigh escaping her lips as she collapsed onto the floor and observed the mess she'd made on the wall. Life in this hell-hole was so unbelievably boring. As morbid as it was, she practically craved their interactions. Even though he was frightening an unpredictable, she'd rather pass time taunting him than sit alone in this pitiful room, being nothing but a forlorn figure laying in a heap on the bed as the time ticked leisurely by.

However, her life before this imprisonment was not much better. She'd worked long hours at the boutique, ending her nights with a cup of microwavable noodles as she watched nineties rom-coms on the sofa until she fell asleep, only to wake up and repeat the cycle the very next day.

She'd been married to Noah for two years. They had a quite small and rather intimiate ceremony at a small church outside of the city. Their marriage was exquisite. That is, until three months before his untimely death, when things began to go a bit south.

Noah would work long hours at the hospital, whereas Ember would work overtime at the boutique, their schedules overlapping and preventing them from seeing one another.

He'd become distant, as if he'd grown bored with her. The sex ceased, the affectionate, morning kisses became non-existant. It was as if her and Noah had become roommates, nothing more. The day he died, he hadn't even kissed her goodbye before work.

Maybe, he'd simply fallen out of love with her.

 _Maybe it was because she was still somewhat in love with her teenage boyfriend._

"Aaron Bleaker, is it?" Jim Gordon called, his glasses shoved tightly against his face as he outstretched an arm, offering to shake the henchman's hand.

"Yes, sir. Commissioner Gordon, correct?" Bleaker confidently spoke, clearing his throat hastily as he rose from his seat, the chair noisily scraping against the wood floor as he took Gordon's clammy hand in his.

"Correct. Interesting choice of location." Gordon raised an eyebrow, his eyes scanning the the dingy building, his gaze promptly avoiding the abundance of half-naked women as they pranced around the floor.

"A buddy of mine owns the place, I come here quite often." Bleaker blandly replied, his voice raised to be a bit more audible over the music as his eyes flickered over a woman who passed by, lingering for a bit too long before Gordon loudly cleared his throat.

"So, tell me what you know about the Joker." Gordon asked, removing a small pad of paper from his overcoat jacket as he clicked open his pen.

Bleaker heartily chuckled, his fingers lacing around a cool glass of scotch as he took a small sip, scowling at the taste before finally answering.

"He's quite a character." Bleaker began.

"Always fiddling with one of his knives."

"Do you know where he is?" Gordon impatiently questioned, the tip of his pen pressing harshly onto the page as the ink began to bleed through.

"I have a bit of an ide- _uh_." A haunting voice whispered in Gordon's ear, an arm darting outwards to clutch tightly onto his chest as a knife pressed forcefully against the skin of his throat.

His breath hitched in his throat at the sudden contact, the feeling of the Joker's nose against his right earlobe made his stomach churn as Bleaker gleefully sipped from his glass from across the table.

"Evening, _Commissioner_ ," Joker growled, kinking the mans arm back as he wriggled beneath him. "Long time, no- _uh_ , _see_."

"You son of a bitch." Gordon spat, glaring at an amused Bleaker who sat opposite him. "What do you want?"

Joker giggled against his ear, the blade shoving further into the skin of Gordon's neck as he forgot how to breathe entirely at the horrifying sound.

"I just want you to te- _ll_ me of a _spe-ci-fic_ persons where- _abouts_." Joker shrilly spoke, his voice raising in pitch as he smacked his lips, swaying in place as Gordon sat locked beneath his grasp.

"Where is the Bat- _man_?" He lowly growled.

Gordon remained silent.

"I'd answer if I were you, buddy." Bleaker piped up, crossing his arms as he observed the scene before him.

Joker's nose pressed firmly up against Gordon's right ear, his gloved fingers laced around his wrist as he held the mans arm in place behind his back, his green ringlets falling into his eyes as he awaited a response.

The additional individuals in the strip club remained silent, eyes widened as they, too, observed the situation at hand. Nobody moved, nobody spoke. The only sound was that of the crappy music and a womans bare thighs against the metal of a pole.

"I don't know where he is. No one does."

Gordon stated.

Joker released his hold on the man, a sigh of relief flooding from him as he began to back away.

"I'm- _uh_ , not particu- _lar-ly_ fon- _d_ of that answer, _Commissioner_." Joker stated, rounding the table so that he was directly beside a confident Bleaker, whose lips curled into a smirk.

"I know as much as you do." Gordon calmly explained.

"So, is it true? Did Gotham's _dark knight_ break his one _rule_? Di- _d_ he rid Gotham of it's _white knight_?" Joker taunted, leaning his torso against the table, twisting the blade between his fingers as he amusingly wet his lips.

"That's what they say." He monotonely replied.

A strand of giggles tumbled from Joker's lips, his arm outstretching across the table to wave the knife in Gordon's face.

"I'm- _uh_ , _proud_ of him!" He gloated.

"He's finally realized his true _po-ten-tial._ "

"Are we done here, Joker?" Gordon snipped. "Because you have a bit of a treat waiting outside for you."

" _Hmm_ ," Joker sang, tapping the blade against his painted lips as he shifted his weight between each foot. "I _like_ a good surprise."

"I'm sure you do." Gordon glared, the doors of the club bursting open as Bleaker hopped from his seat, spilling the glass of scotch onto the table as Horton rounded the stage, tossing him a rifle before cocking his own.

"Love- _ly_ to see yah, Commissioner, bu- _t_ I must be going!" Joker called, snatching a rifle from Spalding's grasp as he scurried from the table, the familiar sounds of shots fired echoing in his ears as he giggled.

Several dancers hopped from his path, a chorus of shouts and screams erupting throughout the building as he abandoned his men, shuffling out the back door and propelling himself into the drivers side of the van, rifle still in his clutch for protection.

He'd given the men a forty second window. After those forty seconds expired, he'd pull the van from the alley and disappear into the night, with or without the three men.

" _Come on, come on, come on._ " He murmured, bouncing his leg impatiently as the engine roared to life.

Twenty-two seconds.

The large, metal back door thrust open, the familiar whisp of blonde hair appearing as Horton climbed into the back of the vehicle, his breaths coming out in short pants as he held the rifle close to his chest.

Fifteen seconds.

The door sat tightly shut, a profusion of profanities escaping Joker's scarred lips as his gaze roamed the alley, looking out for any signs of the GCPD.

Nine seconds.

The door swung open once again, a disheveled Bleaker emerging, chest heaving as he toppled into the back of the van.

"Go!" He shouted.

"Spalding's dead!"

Joker grumbled in response, thrusting the gear shift into drive before exiting the covert alley, his knuckles glowing white as he sped down the road, slinking past the mess of police cars as a loud cackle wracked through his chest.

"And _that_ is how it's done, boys!" He mused, a laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his greasy green curls.

"S-Spalding's dead?" Horton heaved, struggling to catch his breath as he lay defeated along the bench.

Bleaker sat planted on the floor, his back eased up against the side door as he avoided Horton's hurt gaze.

"Yeah. Shot right in the chest."

Joker remained silent in the front seat, deep in concentration as he swerved between vehicles, desperate to quickly return to his hideout before the GCPD left the strip club.

They arrived twenty minutes later, the tires bumping along the uneven dirt path as Joker put the van in park, exhaling noisily through his nose as he climbed from the vehicle.

Bleaker and Horton slowly followed, an unsettling silence between them as Joker skipped along the cracks in the pavement, giggling as he did so.

The kitchen was just as they'd left it, the overly large map of Gotham spread out on the island counter, along with sloppy marks that littered the page.

Joker pried open the refrigerator, retrieving the used shot glasses from the sink as he refilled them, the liquid sloshing up the sides and wetting the map as he grunted lowly.

Horton and Bleaker each grabbed a glass, deep frowns present on their features as Joker slowly rose his upward into the air, clearing his throat before finally speaking.

"To Spalding."

"To Spalding." The men chimed in unison, downing their glasses before placing them on top of the map.

"I'm-uh, gonna go check on the girl." Joker dryly spoke, avoiding Horton and Bleaker's gazes as he mindlessly shoved past them, his shoulder colliding swiftly with Horton's.

A blush rose onto his cheeks at the sudden contact. Bleaker rolled his eyes in response, waiting until the boss was out of sight before speaking up.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Horton stilled, his blue eyes studying the ground as he swayed in place.

"You can tell me, I won't throw you under the bus. I don't really want to see you die, you're pretty cool."

Would the Joker kill him if he knew?

"Yes," Horton breathed.

"I am."

"I'm sorry." Bleaker's expression faltered, taking a seat at one of the bar stools before running a hand through his matted hair.

"Sorry about what?" Horton inquired.

Bleaker sighed, tracing the writing on the map as he tapped his foot against the wood of the stool. "I'm sorry that you fell in love with the most dangerous man on the planet."

Joker crept towards Ember's closed door, smacking his lips together as he hummed a tune under his breath.

Just as he rose his arm to knock, the door swung open, revealing a recently showered Ember with wet, tangled hair.

"Uh, _hi_." Joker greeted, his lips tugging upwards into a forced smile as she rolled her eyes in response.

"Glad to see you survived." She groaned, abandoning the doorway as she plopped belly down onto the bed, resuming her assault on a new piece of paper as she aimlessly doodled.

Joker shoved his gloved hands into his pockets, hastily stepping into the room as his attention was suddenly diverted to the wall opposite the door.

Red writing littered the concrete. He immediately recognized the poem he'd read out loud earlier, etched cleanly into the paint as his eyebrows raised.

"You- _uh_ , must really _like_ that poem."

"Yeah. I do." Ember said.

Joker awkwardly cleared his throat, his gaze roaming the room as he observed the discarded clothing in the corner, along with the abundance of papers that covered the floor.

"Is there something you want?" Ember questioned, craning her neck to look backwards at him as he stood frozen in place.

"I have some- _thing_ for you, _actually_." He grumbled, shoving his hand deeply into the inside pocket of his theatrical purple coat, fishing the pack of chapsticks from the pocket as he tossed them onto the bed beside her.

"Now- _uh_ , your lips'll never be _chapped_."

Ember raised an eyebrow, her fingers darting outward to claim the package as she turned it over in her palm.

"You could use one of these, actually." She joked, ripping the paper on the back open as she took a single tube between her fingers, tossing it backwards towards him.

He caught it swiftly between his fingers, his gaze lingering on the tube that sat in his palm as a genuine smile toyed at his lips, his tongue darting outward to wet them.

"See!" Ember exclaimed, sitting up on the mattress as she thrust her finger in his direction. "I told you that you needed one! Always licking your damn lips!"

"Thanks, _cupcake_." He mused, tossing it into his pocket as he took another look at the vandalized wall. "Nice art- _work_."

Ember raised an eyebrow, glancing over her shoulder at the wall as she twiddled her thumbs.

"I thought you were going to make me scrub it off." She admitted.

"May I- _uh_ , remind you that my walls are covered in _ha_ _ha's_?"

"Fair deal." She giggled.

Was she actually joking around with Gotham's most feared villain?

" _Er_ ," Joker began.

"Spalding died."

"Oh." She squeaked. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"S'okay. I'll be _lookin_ ' for a new guy, though. Any _suggestions_?"

"I don't have any friends, remember?" Ember pitifully replied.

" _Ah_ , righ- _t_." He clicked his tongue. "I- _uh, best be going."_

"Okay." She whispered.

His thumb darted upward to meet his face, scratching against the itchy paint on his lower lip as he turned on his heel, slowly exiting the room.

"Thanks for the chapstick." She chirped.

A smile crept onto Joker's lips as his back faced her, a response failing him as he promptly left, closing the door behind him.

* * *

 **A/N** : Hey guys! I know this was a bit of a bleh chapter, but I've got some pretty crazy stuff coming your way within the next few chapters! Some questions will be answered and I'm extremely excited! (Also, I had to repost due to some formatting errors with Joker's dialogue. So sorry if it wasn't fixed in time!)

Also, I'm so pleased to see the reactions to Horton's feelings towards the Joker. I think I've maybe read one fanfiction where J has a henchman whose attracted to him, and he was fucking awful towards him and I hated it. SO, I strive to not make Joker a complete heartless asshole, especially towards Horton.

 **QOTD** : A fun little question for you guys so I can get to know you better! What's everyones favorite Joker scene in TDK? Mine is a tie between the "hit me" scene and the interrogation, Heath's acting in both of those blows my fucking mind. Leave a review with yours!


	9. IX

"It's a pretty big shock to realise that the only people you can identify with are psychopathic killers."

—Dan Wells

* * *

Bleaker and Horton sat at the kitchen island, both equally occupied with separate tasks.

Bleaker spent his time thoroughly cleaning the rifle he'd used at the strip club three days prior. Horton, on the other hand, had his nose stuffed in his favorite classic novel, _Wuthering Heights_.

"You know," Horton began, creasing the top corner of the page before snapping the book shut. "Heathcliff and Catherine's relationship is kind of fucked up."

"Uh, what?" Bleaker rose an eyebrow, wiping the discarded magazine clean as he inserted it back into place. "Are you talking about that dumbass book?"

"It's not a dumbass book, Bleak. It's a classic!" Horton defended, furrowing his eyebrows in annoyance as he climbed from the stool, holding the book close to his chest.

"Don't even bother explaining it to me, bud. I could honestly care less. Haven't read a single book in my entire life."

"That's a shame, dude. There's nothing better than being completely immersed in a book. It's like, being able to escape the real world." Horton rambled, reopening the book as he flipped to his saved page.

Bleaker raised an eyebrow. He so desperately wanted to toss out an insulting "gay joke", but he kept his mouth shut.

"It's just such a shame because it seems like they're destined to be together, but their relationship is nothing short of dysfunctional." Horton vented, his eyes glued to the page.

" _Hm_." Bleaker blandly replied.

"I always said that I wanted to name my first born child Heathcliff." The portly blonde boy continued to ramble, immersing himself in their world once more as Bleaker shook his head.

"Kinda hard to have kids when you want to be with the boss, ain't it?"

Horton shot him a scolding glare before returning to his novel.

Both of the men jumped slightly when the front door suddenly burst open, colliding loudly with the wall as the brass handle left a gaping hole in the drywall.

Horton dropped his book, quickly folding the corner to ensure that his spot isn't lost before the pages glided shut.

The Joker strode into the detriorated building, his shoulders hunched as he swung his left arm freely, his right tucked behind his back as he fiddled with the hem of his coat. A muscular man followed close on his heel, strutting a buzz cut and beady, black eyes.

"Gentle- _men_ ," Joker began, smacking his lips together as he thrust an arm in the strangers direction. "I'd- _uh_ , like yah to meet _Grim_."

"Hi Grim." They simultaneously spoke, not a lick of excitement present in their tones.

"He's no _Spalding_ , but he'll _do_." Joker grumbled, nodding once in Grim's direction before eyeing Bleaker.

"Would'ya _make_ me a cup of coffee, _Bleaker_?" He requested, waving the new man into the house as his henchman nearly nodded.

"Sure, sir."

"Grea- _t_. Follow me, Grim- _ah_."

The Joker promptly showed the new henchman around the disheveled house, advising him that the bedroom behind the purple door was "strictly off-limits" before halting in front of Ember's off-white door.

"What room is that?" Grim wondered, his voice raspy and low as he eyed the closed door. He sounded as if he smoked three packs of cigarettes a day.

"That's- _uh_ , my _lady's_ room." Joker hesitantly replied.

 _Ember was totally going to kill him for that._

Grim raised an eyebrow.

"Your lady doesn't sleep with you?"

"She's not _actually_ my la- _dy_ ," Joker quickly countered, his hand darting upwards to awkwardly scratch his head. "She's more-so my- _uh_ , _prisoner_."

"Oh. Cool." Grim said.

"Does that I mean I get to play with her?"

Joker's jaw tightened, his gaze hardening as he immediately fished the blade from his coat, cupping his palm around Grim's neck as he pressed the blade firmly to his jugular.

Grim's eyes widened at the sudden contact, his tall frame slackening under Joker's touch as his bottom lip quivered in fear. It was absolutely _wild_ how even the biggest and toughest men were absolutely frightened of the little clown in purple.

"I _swear_ to _fuck_ ," Joker hissed, his tongue sneaking outward to press against his left scar. " _If_ you even _look_ at her, I'll fucking _skin you alive."_

"Y-Yes, sir." Grim stuttered, the blade leaving his neck as he backed away from the angry man.

" _Good_." Joker hummed.

"Very goo- _d_."

The white door swung open, Ember's small frame coming into view as she leaned against the doorframe, the shoulder of her lanky salmon shirt slipping downward to reveal her bare skin.

"I thought I heard you." She crossed her arms, her gaze settling upon the gianormous man that stood next to Joker. "Whose that?"

"Grim." Joker uttered.

"Oh. Nice to meet you, Grim." Ember weakly smiled, outstretching her arm to shake his hand.

Grim didn't budge. Instead, he avoided her eyes completely, his breath growing shallow as Joker giggled beside him.

Ember slowly lowered her arm, shooting Joker a confused glare as he merely chuckled between them.

"He's- _uh, shy_." He lied, glancing over at Grim to see him growing more uncomfortable by the second.

"Can I borrow a towel again?" Ember wondered.

Joker glanced in Grim's direction, an eyebrow raised as he waved his hand in the mans direction.

" _Scoot_." He ordered.

Grim happily obliged, turning on his heel and nearly running from the room as he joined Horton and Bleaker in the kitchen.

Joker redirected his gaze to Ember, who raised her eyebrows as she sucked on her bottom lip. Her dyed blonde hair was pulled away from her face by an old rubber band, her cheeks flushed bright pink as her golden brown eyes sparkled.

"Why don't yah _grab_ it _yourself_ , toots?" He winked, his lips tugging upward into a grin as he flashed her a toothy smile.

"Okay." She shrugged, shoving past him as she purposely ran into his shoulder, knocking him backwards a bit as she pranced towards the hallway towards the purple door.

Joker stood frozen in place, his hands shoved into his pant pockets as a chuckle escaped his lips, that dumb toothy grin still tugging at his lips.

For the first time in years, the Joker felt a batch of butterflies brew in his belly.

* * *

Ember stood in front of the bathroom sink, her fingernails picking at the acne scabs that littered her bare forehead as she groaned in vexation.

She looked and felt absolutely disgusting. It's been nearly two weeks since she ran into Joker's men whilst his escape from Arkham, and her life seemed to be creeping idly by.

Would she be locked up here forever? Would she ever smell the blueberry muffins from the bakery next door to the boutique again? The absolutely lucious scent that traveled through the walls, making her stomach growl every single time the scent met her nose?

The thought of never leaving this room for the rest of her life was enough to make her head spin. Although she was thankful to be alive, living in isolation seemed to be worse than the sweet escape of death.

The shower ran mindlessly in the background, the water heating up as she observed her reflection in the mirror. She was thinning, her cheeks were paler, and her lips were starting to transform colors. They weren't the typical shade of rosey red. Instead, they'd faded into a pale pink, almost white in complexion.

The cool air from the bedroom generated an assortment of goosebumps on her skin, the door to the bathroom left wide open as she thrust her hand into the shower to test the water temperature.

She stepped into the shower, the boiling water immersing her skin as she sighed in relief. Noah used to always scold her for turning the temperature up too high, but she rather enjoyed practically burning the flesh off of her skin while she bathed.

Ember hummed a tune under her breath, massaging a bit too much shampoo into her scalp as she breathed in the steam of the shower, her mood instantly shifting to that of content.

After several minutes, she switched off the water, snatching the mocha tinted towel from the top of the toilet as she rang out the excess water from her locks.

"Holy shit." A voice proclaimed, her heart plummeting as she removed the towel from her face.

A shocked Bleaker stood at the foot of the bed, his eyes widening at the sight of a very naked Ember as he tugged his lip between his teeth.

A gasp escaped her lips, her hands struggling to cover herself with the towel, but it was too late. He'd already seen her, and boy, did he want her.

With two long strides, she swiftly slammed the door closed and latched the lock, shuffling quickly into her articles of clean clothing as Bleaker's fist came into contact with the door. A cry escaped her lips at the noise as she buttoned her jeans.

"C'mon, babe. Please let me in!" His muffled voice called, her heart clenching in her chest as her wet hair soaked the back of her shirt.

"Please go away!" She cried, but the knocking increased, the handle jiggling as she pressed herself against the door, desperately attempting to prevent him from entering.

Tears escaped the corners of her eyes as Bleaker grunted in annoyance on the other side of the door, the handle abruptly turning as the door flung open, knocking the woman forward as she tumbled to the floor, the palms of her hands breaking her fall.

"P-Please get away from me—" She begged, but the pretty-eyed boy only smiled menacingly in response.

"Boss isn't home to protect you, honey." He mocked, his fingers lacing around the neck of her shirt as he tugged her upwards, dragging her across the room as he tossed her onto the bed.

Her vision temporarily blurred as her neck snapped painfully backwards, colliding with the mattress as his touch suddenly returned, holding her flailing legs into place as she squirmed beneath him.

"S-Stop!" Ember sobbed, only to be silenced by his dirty palm as it clamped downward on her lips.

"This'll only take a second, don't worry. It's been awhile." He assured her, prying his fingers from her swollen lips as he tugged her legs apart, wrapping them forcefully around his waist as she loudly cried beneath him.

 _This wasn't happening... this couldn't be happening..._

"Joker! Joker!" She cried, the sound of a belt buckle clinking together causing the breath to leave her lungs.

* * *

The Joker crouched beside the open door of the jet black van, his oily curls sticking to the sweat on the nape of his neck as he assisted Grim with removing the old floorboards of the vehicle.

"So you want these bright green ones put in?" Grim asked, tearing the plastic from the glue as he pried the old, matted boards from the floor and discarded them off to the side.

"Yeah. Tha- _t_ would be _great_." Joker breathlessly replied, sliding the back of his palm across his forehead to rid the skin of his sweat, only to smear the white paint across the back of his hand.

"Horton, you're- _uh_ , replacing the _tires_ , righ- _t_?"

"With bulletproof ones, sir." Horton smiled, rolling a sleek new tire across the gravel as his cheeks flushed. Joker raised a brow, his gaze lingering on the blushing boy for a bit too long as he let out an exasperated sigh.

"This is a nice secluded place you've got out here, boss." Grim noted, inserting the bright green floorboards into the van.

"Got it for a _steal_." He mused, chuckling lowly at his pitiful joke. The house had been abandoned when he found it four years ago. He wasn't quite sure who lived in it prior, or why the bank didn't own it, but he'd snatched it up quickly and made it his own.

"I'm gonna go inside- _ah_." He added, his hands resting on his hips as he kicked several rocks with the toe of his shoe, stealing a final glance at the men hard at work before trudging up the cracked sidewalk.

Joker reentered the house with a slight skip in his step, kicking the door closed with his heel as he entered the kitchen off to the immediate left. His ungloved fingers laced around a bright crimson apple on the counter, the dowdily rolled sleeve of his hexagon printed, soft purple dress shirt slipping down his arm as he retrieved the piece of fruit.

Joker's fingers tugged at the loose dark tie around his neck, unwrapping it with ease as he tossed it onto the counter, sinking his teeth into the apple as the juice dribbled down his chin.

A muffled cry emerged from the opposite end of the house, the apple falling from his grasp as it bounced twice onto the granite counter and fell to the floor. With raised brows, Joker slinked towards Ember's closed door, his heart stopping the moment he heard her shout his name twice.

Within seconds, he'd busted through the door, switchblade in hand as the scene before him literally made him feel sick to his stomach.

Bleaker lay on top of a sobbing Ember, his jeans unbuttoned and belt unlatched as his fingers tugged at the waist of her pants, his expression immediately contorting into a look of fear the moment he noticed the Joker's presence in the room.

"And wha- _t_ have we _here_?" Joker drawled, his lips curling into a sinister grin as his moment finally came: He _finally_ had an excuse to cut this kids balls clean off.

"Boss!" Bleaker chirped, quickly buckling himself back up as he catapulted himself from the bed, tossing his hands up in defense as Joker slowly approached him, twisting the newly sharpened blade between his paint-stained fingers.

"And what is it you were- _uh_ , _planning_ on doing to lit- _tle_ Miss Ember, _pal_?" Joker raised an eyebrow tauntingly, sucking diligently on his scarred lip as Bleaker cowered against the adjacent wall.

"N-Nothing sir, I promise!" Bleaker pathetically lied, but Joker only cackled in response, struggling to catch his breath as amused laughs wracked through his chest.

" _Good_ one!"

Bleaker darted past the Joker, attempting to escape the room. Joker, as usual, was one whole step ahead of him, his fist grabbing onto the collar of Bleaker's shirt as he tossed him onto the bed like a rag doll.

Ember cried out at the sudden action, crawling backwards against the headboard as she shook violently in place, her knees pulled against her chest as Joker crawled on top of Bleaker at the foot of the bed, straddling him into place.

Joker's fingers laced around Bleaker's neck, his thumb pressing harshly against the skin as the henchman fumbled beneath him, crying outward when the blade suddenly met his lips.

"You're a _shitty liar_ , Bleaker." Joker scolded, digging the blade into the mans lip as he drew a bit of blood.

"Get off of me!" Bleaker shouted, hooking his arm around the Joker's as his fist collided with his jaw.

Joker's vision blurred momentarily, a high-pitched laugh slipping from his lips as his hands darted upward to massage his slightly sore jaw.

Bleaker pressed himself against the closed door of the bathroom once again, his eyes widening at the haunting laughs that pertruded from the psychopath before him, a hint of red glistening on the blade from the incision on Bleaker's top lip.

"A little _fight_ in you," Joker sang through chuckles. "I _like that."_

He wrapped his arms around Bleaker once again, tackling him back onto the mattress as Ember backed herself further against the headboard, desperately trying to escape the two men that swung at each other on the bed.

Bleaker's fist thrusted upwards once again, missing Joker's jaw by merely an inch as the madman captured his wrist, tugging it upwards as he pressed it into the mattress. He clutched the open blade in his palm, cortorting his fingers into a tight fist as it collided with Bleaker's nose.

A mess of blood erupted from Bleaker's nostrils, a groan tumbling from his lips from the severe pain inflicted upon his nose. His free hand shot upwards, reaching for Joker's throat as his fingers hooked around the buttons of his shirt. His lanky fingers ripped open several of the buttons as the Joker grunted in displeasure, finally sinking the blade deep into Bleaker's chest as Ember screamed outward in horror.

The henchman convulsed beneath him, blood seeping through his shirt rapidly as the Joker retracted the blade, sinking it into the opposite side of his chest as an eerily disgruntled laugh erupted from him.

" _Fuck_ you, Bleaker!" Joker exclaimed, repeatedly sinking the blade into the mans chest as Ember squeezed her eyes tightly shut, the sight of Bleaker's blood filling her mind as she cowered against the wall.

The sound of the blade sinking into the silent mans chest echoed in her head as Joker's laugh crescendoed, high-pitched and throaty as she peeked through her fingers, the madman sitting up against Bleaker's unmoving hips. His head was tossed back in ecstacy, the blood gushing from Bleaker's chest seeping through his fingers as he cackled above the dead man. Several drops of fresh blood coated Joker's face and neck, his tongue darting outward to suck on his scars as he groaned in satisfaction.

Ember's vision cleared, her hands shaking violently as her gaze settled upon Joker's chest. The top four buttons of his dress shirt sat ripped open, courtesy of Bleaker's prying hands.

Her focus, however, wasn't on the man who slowly bled out underneath Joker's hips, or even the pleasure-ridden expression plastered on Joker's face. No, her eyes were glued solely on the chain that hung around the Joker's neck, sitting nicely on top of the fabric as his chest heaved.

Her lips curled into an "o" shape, her fingers grazing her bottom lip as her eyes widened so large that they began to water.

Joker's eyes flickered open, the blade tumbling from his grasp and colliding with Bleaker's bloodied chest as he observed Ember's stunned reaction.

" _Sorry_ yah had to- _uh_ , see tha- _t_." He smacked his lips, steadying his breathing as Ember lay stunned before him, her eyes locked on his chest.

His eyebrow raised, his neck slowly craning downwards to see what the fuck she could possibly be gawking it.

Joker's stare finally met the chain that hung around his neck, his heartbeat instantly accelerating as he climbed off of the dead man, rounding the bed as his fingers laced around Ember's wrists.

"N-No—"

"Come _on_ , Ember." He pressed through gritted teeth, tugging her from by the bed by her wrists as her knees wobbled. She shook her head vigorously, collapsing onto the floor as he huffed in annoyance, dragging her body along the carpet as he led her to the bathroom.

"Fuck, Ember." He grunted, shoving open the door as he flicked on the light with the side of his finger, leaving behind a smear of Bleaker's fresh blood on the switch.

His painted face became illuminated by the artificial lighting as he shuffled through several cabinets underneath the sink. He finally retracted a folded white washcloth before closing the cabinet door with his foot and flicking on the faucet, running the cloth under a steady stream of water.

Once he had fully wet the towel, ringing out the excess water, he crouched downward, thrusting his hands underneath her armpits as he lifted her from the floor with ease. Ember's bottom came into contact with the counter, her eyes wild as she studied Joker's every move.

He placed the damp white towel into her open palms, resting his palms on either side of the lanky woman's legs as he bent his knees slightly, his face level with hers as he stood perched between her.

"W-What d'you want me to—"

"Take it off." He ordered.

"I-I—" She stammered, but Joker was growing impatient at her rambling.

He firmly grabbed onto her arm, pressing the towel in her palm against his cheek as he mimicked a rotating action, silently instructing her to rub the makeup off of him.

Her lips locked tightly together, her heart thudding painfully in her chest as she slowly began to rub circles against his cheek. Her eyes widened as the white paint began to disappear, his pale skin peeking through as she shifted to his forehead, ridding the paint from the deep creases in his skin.

The scars proved to be the most difficult. The one on his left cheek was jagged and deep, her fingers delicately massaging the bright red paint from them as she feared that she may be hurting him.

"Am I hurting you?" She breathlessly squeaked.

"No," He assured her.

"They're _scars_ , toots. They don't _hurt_."

She nodded curtly, continuing her gentle assault on his lips as she rid them of the ugly paint.

All that was left was his eyes. Deep, black holes, circling a pair of surprisingly beautiful brown orbs.

"It's _okay_." He whispered, his eyelids fluttering closed as she brought her hand to his eyes, gently rubbing the paint away as it heavily stained the towel.

The towel tumbled from her grasp, her jaw hung ajar as she gawked at Joker's bare face, a paper plane pendant resting comfortably against his chest as his lips tugged into a smirk.

"Oh my god." She whispered, her fingers darting upwards to meet his face, her thumb tracing the scar that hugged his bottom lip.

They trailed downwards, brushing against the skin of his jaw as she traced down the flesh of his neck, her fingers eventually coming into contact with the silver chain that hung around his neck.

She took the paper plane between her fingers, rotating the charm as if to thoroughly inspect it before reaching towards her own with her free hand, tugging the chain out from the safety of her shirt as she pressed them together.

"Ember." He breathed, his voice transforming into one that she immediately recognized, his typical Joker voice dissipating completely.

Her breath grew shallow as the identical pendants sat in the palm of her hand, an abundance of memories flooding suddenly back to her as her gaze flickered upwards, reconnecting with those chocolate brown eyes she used to adore.

"Jackson?"


	10. X

"Poetry spills from the cracks of a broken heart, but flows from one which is loved."

—Christopher Paul Rubero

* * *

 _Let's rewind the clocks back a bit..._

"Ah, Mrs. Clarke! Come on in!" Evelyn cheered, her blush tinted glasses slipping down the curve of her nose as she opened the door widely.

"Lovely to see you again, Evelyn." Mrs. Clarke smiled, her wiry gray hair pulled into a tight bun as she shuffled through the front door of Evelyn's orphanage.

"We currently have twenty-six children," Evelyn explained, the heels of her stilettos clicking loudly against the wood floor as she led Mrs. Clarke into the large house. "Fifteen girls and eleven boys, ranging from three to seventeen years of age."

Evelyn led the stocky old woman into a nearby office, littered with stacks of unorganized manila folders piling on top of an old oak desk. A single broad window sat behind the desk, the mahogany curtains drawn back to allow light to enter the slightly small room.

"Please, take a seat." Evelyn smiled, outstretching her arm in the direction of a plush carob tinted chair as Mrs. Clarke quietly sat, her leather purse resting comfortably on her lap as her beady eyes scoped out the office.

"So, what age were you interested in, again?" Evelyn requested, taking a seat in her leather swivel chair as she began to shuffle through the manila folders.

"Between eight and eleven, preferably." Mrs. Clarke said, chewing mindlessly on her bottom lip.

"Lovely. Let me show you the children we have in that age range." Evelyn shuffled quickly through the folders, placing several of them on the opposite side of the desk in front of Mrs. Clarke.

"I have three girls and one boy between that age range," Evelyn explained, folding her hands and resting them on the desk as Mrs. Clarke retrieved the boys' file.

She flipped open the folder, a neat arrangement of documents held inside by a paperclip as she admired the little blonde boy with a very toothy grin.

"His name's Jackson. He turns ten today, actually." Evelyn informed the woman.

"He's adorable!" Mrs. Clarke observed, skimming over his information as she snapped the folder shut. "Can I see him?"

A grin tugged at Evelyn's lips. "Certainly."

She brought Mrs. Clarke out back to the playground, which was littered with screaming children as they played cheerfully.

Evelyn scanned the area for the little boy Mrs. Clarke was interested in adopting. She finally spot him off to the side, perched against the wall as he sat shoulder-to-shoulder with a dark haired girl known as Ember.

"He's right over here, Mrs. Clarke." Evelyn pointed.

Mrs. Clarke's gaze settled upon the boy, giggling gleefully beside a girl as they bounced little red balls against the pavement.

"Is that his sister?" Mrs. Clarke inquired, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 _Why wasn't Jackson playing with the other boys?_

"Oh, no." Evelyn stammered, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "That's his best friend Ember. She was brought in when she was four, and him three. They've be inseparable ever since. They share a birthday, actually. They're both ten today."

"Are they always... _together_?" Mrs. Clarke openly scoffed.

Evelyn's gaze darkened, her weight shifting between each foot as she observed the womans peculiar reaction.

"Yes. Always."

"Well, I don't want her too, so I guess I'll be going. I wouldn't want to be the asshole that splits them up. Thank you for your time." Mrs. Clarke grunted, turning on her heel before abandoning a rather stunned Evelyn.

A sigh tumbled from her purple painted lips as she approached the giggling children.

Jackson and Ember's nearly identical golden brown eyes met hers, their lips sealing as they shuffled awkwardly in place.

"Happy birthday, babies." Evelyn smiled.

"How about I take you guys to the gift shop so you can pick out a present each?"

Jackson and Ember's expressions brightened, exchanging excited glances as they stood from their positions and wrapped their small arms around Evelyn's torso.

"We'd love that, Miss Evelyn!" Jackson cheered.

"Thank you, Miss Evelyn!" Ember added, squeezing tightly around the womans torso as she chuckled above them, patting the top of their heads before leading them inside.

* * *

"Remember children, one item each." Evelyn gently reminded the rather giddy duo, their lips pulled into excited smiles as they roamed around the small gift shop down the road from the orphanage.

"I wish it was our birthday everyday, so Miss Evelyn would buy us gifts!" Ember exclaimed, her eyes roaming the shelves filled with nonsense as Jackson slipped his hand into hers.

"Oh my god, Ember, look at these!" Jackson shouted enthusiastically, halting in place as he eyed the set of necklaces hanging from the nearby shelf.

"They're little paper plane necklaces!" He added, unlatching his fingers from Ember's as he pried them off of the metal bar, handing one to his best friend as he rotated the pendant between his fingers.

"They can be our friendship necklaces!" Ember said.

A smile crept onto Jackson's lips, nodding his head excitedly as they scurried towards Evelyn on the opposite side of the shop.

"Miss Evelyn! We want these!" Ember announced, thrusting the silver paper plane necklace upwards for the woman to see.

"You both want one?" Evelyn politely asked, her gaze shifting between the two children.

"Yes!" They chirped in unison.

"And you both promise they won't end up at the bottom of a drawer?" Evelyn lightly scolded, handing the cashier a twenty dollar bill as Jackson assisted Ember in putting her necklace on, and vice-versa.

"I'm going to wear it everyday, because Jackson is my best friend, and I want everyone to know!" Ember loudly proclaimed.

Jackson flashed the girl a toothy grin.

"Same here. Every single day."

* * *

 _ **Five years later**_

Ember sat cross legged on her twin-sized canopy bed, her crooked nose shoved into a textbook as she scribbled down the answer to the equation.

The orphanage had three quite large bedrooms, where several children slept in their own beds. Ember shared a room with two other girls: Kayla and Teagan. Kayla, being eleven, is a bit reserved and hardly says a word. Teagan, on the other hand, being sixteen and nothing less than a stuck-up snobby bitch, never seemed to leave Ember alone.

Ember's free hand clutched loosely onto the silver paper plane that dangled from the chain around her neck, her fingers tracing the outline of the pendant subconciously.

"Ew, the _freak_ is here." Teagan's nasally voice piped, the pendant toppling from Ember's grasp as it collided with her chest.

Jackson shuffled slowly over towards Ember's bed, a genuine look of hurt present on his features as Ember shot Teagan a disgusted glare.

"Don't fucking call him that." She seethed.

Teagan lounged in her bed, picking aimlessly at her sloppily painted nails as she merely rolled her eyes.

"Everyone thinks he is except you, weirdo." She taunted.

Ember ignored her comment, sitting upwards slightly to tug the canopy closed around her bed as Jackson folded his legs, easing closer to her on the mattress.

"Please don't listen to her, Jackson. She's a bitch." Ember lightly reassured him.

"It's alright, Ember. The only opinion I care about is yours." He whispered, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as his paper plane pendant slipped out from the collar of his shirt.

Ember dropped her pencil onto the book, her eyes focusing on the necklace around the blonde boys neck as she smiled.

"Can you believe that we've both worn these necklaces every single day for five years?"

"We've been best friends for ten." He grinned. "Want to go grab some ice cream?"

"Hell yeah." She cheered, shoving the heavy textbook from the mattress as she ripped open the navy blue canopy once again, taking Jackson's hand in hers as they ignored the ugly mug plastered on Teagan's face.

"Can I have a lick of yours? I wanna see what it tastes like." Ember begged, the liquidy mint ice cream dripping from the cone and onto her hand as she eyed Jackson's chocolate filled cone.

"Seriously, Em?" He rolled his eyes, pushing the cone in her direction as she squealed in response.

"See! This is why you're my best friend!" Ember cheered, running her tongue along the side of the ice cream scoop as Jackson playfully scoffed.

"Ew. Now I'm going to get cooties." He teased, a giggle escaping his rosey red lips as he took another lick from his ice cream, directly where Ember just licked off of.

She swung her left arm around his torso, cradling him close to her as they walked through the park, silently consuming their ice cream as birds chirped overhead.

"I think they call me a freak because I don't have any guy best friends." Jackson stated, his gaze fixated on the ground as he walked. His right arm snaked around Ember's bony shoulders, squeezing her skin lightly as his fingers traced circles onto her flesh.

"Chord is your friend!" She said. "And Eric!"

"But they're not my best friends." He sighed. " _You're_ my best friend."

"Did you bring the book of poetry?" Ember interjected, finishing off her ice cream as she tossed the cone into the nearest trash bin.

"You're a weirdo for not liking the cones. I would've eaten it." Jackson teased, finishing the butt of his cake cone in one large bit before retrieving the folded book of poetry from his back pocket.

"Yay!" Ember cheered, clapping her hands together enthusiastically as she led them over to a nearby bench, the golden paint chipping off in shards as she tugged him down into a sitting position, wrapping her arms tightly around his left bicep as he grinned.

"Ready?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Just read." She pressed, resting her chin on his shoulder as she snuggled close into him.

Jackson flipped open the matted book, several pages hanging on by a single thread as he rummaged to where they'd left off.

He cleared his throat, tapping his left foot anxiously as he began to read.

" _'I cannot live with You_ ', by Emily Dickinson." He began.

"Oo! I love Emily Dickinson!" Ember announced.

"I know you do, sugar pie." Jackson mused, stealing a side-eyed glance at the giddy girl before continuing.

"I cannot live with you. It would be life, and life is over there, behind the shelf. The sexton keeps the key to putting up our life, his porcelain, like a cup. Discarded of the housewife, quaint, or broke, a newer Sevres pleases, old ones crack." Jackson licked his lips, his leg bouncing steadily as Ember tightened her hold on his arm, urging him to continue.

"I could not die with you, for one must wait to shut the other's gaze down. You could not, and I could I stand by. And see you freeze, without my right of frost, death's privilege? Nor could I rise, with you, because your face would put out Jesus' that New Grace."

He paused momentarily, craning his neck to meet her eyes. Ember's golden gaze met his, her pupils dialating as her pink lips tugged into a smile.

"Keep going." She whispered.

"Glow plain and foreign, on my homesick eye, except that you than he shone closer by. They'd judge us, how for you served Heaven. You know, or sought to, I could not. Because you saturated sight, and I had not more eyes for sordid excellence as paradise."

His stomach fluttered when the tip of her nose grazed his neck, her breath fanning over his skin as goosebumps arose.

"And were you lost, I would be. Though my name rang loudest on the Heavenly fame. And were you saved, and I condemned to be where you were not, that self, were Hell to me. So we must meet apart, you there, I here, with just the door ajar. That oceans are, and prayer. And that white sustenance despair."

His thumb pressed firmly against the softened cover of the book, slowly snapping it closed before exhaling deeply.

"You'll never let us be apart, will you?" Jackson whispered, his gaze meeting hers as she squeezed onto his arm reassuringly.

"Never. Plus, who would read me poetry if you aren't around?" She cheekily commented.

Jackson's lips tugged into a smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing as she nuzzled into his neck.

"You're my everything, Em."

"And you're mine."

* * *

"Hey Em," Jackson began, stacking his paper plate with fluffy pancakes as he joined the girl and several other hungry children at the long dining room table.

"Yeah?" Ember asked through a mouthful of pancakes.

"Want to go to the park again today? I peeked at the next poem, and it's a really good one. I want to read it to you today." Jackson shyly spoke, coating his shortstack with thick maple syrup. "I know that typically we go on Fridays, but I'm just a bit impatient."

"I'd love that, Jackson." Ember smiled, wrapping her arm around the boy in a side-hug.

" _Freak_." A voice hissed from behind them.

Jackson's stomach churned at the word, his gaze darkening as he whipped around to see a small group of guys.

Joey, Xavier and Tyson seemed to think that they ran Evelyn's Orphanage, mainly because they were all seventeen and only months shy of being able to move out. Their biggest victim, however, was Jackson.

Nobody ever thought of Jackson as being a freak until Evelyn ran her mouth three years ago.

On the eve of Jackson and Ember's twelfth birthday, Jackson revealed to Evelyn that he would sometimes hear voices in his head. She insisted that he speak with a psychiatrist, but the idea of it frightened him and he never mentioned the voices again. However, Evelyn accidentally let it slip in front of Xavier one day, and it's been downhill ever since.

Ember shot up from her chair, spinning on her heel as her fist suddenly came into contact with Tyson's jaw.

A chorus of gasps erupted throughout the dining room, Tyson's eyes widening as he dropped his plate of pancakes upon impact, his stubby fingers darting upward to massage the sore skin.

"What the fuck, Ember?" He yelped, eyes wild as Xavier and Joey shot Jackson a menacing glare.

"Don't call him that!" Ember exploded, her hands curling into fists once again as she began to raise them towards the three boys.

Joey, Xavier and Tyson lept backwards, their hands darting upwards in surrender as Ember fumed before them.

"Why's Ember always fighting your fights for you, pal?" Xavier mocked.

"Because he's too fucking nice to say anything!" She pressed. "Leave him alone, or I'll break all of your noses."

"He's a loser." Joey stated.

Ember fell silent, trembling with rage as she tugged at Jackson's arm.

"C'mon, Jack. Let's go." She urged.

Jackson happily obliged, glaring one last time at the three boys before abandoning his spot and following Ember out of the room, his hand clutched tightly in hers.

"Got your book?" She whispered in his ear, standing on her tippy-toes to reach it as his cheeks flushed pink.

"Always."

They walked to the park in silence. Jackson's thumb traced circles against Ember's palm as he kicked several pebbles out of the way.

Ember dropped his hand, her deep brown locks swaying side to side as she skipped to the park bench, hopping onto it as she giggled prefusively.

"Someone's excited." Jackson beamed, taking his place on the bench as he removed the ratted book from his back pocket.

Ember instantly curled into his side, just as she always did when he read to her. Her arms laced around his bicep, her pointy chin digging into his shoulder.

His lanky fingers flipped through the pages, finally settling upon one with a largely creased corner.

"Ready, pumpkin?" He mused.

"Set." Ember giggled.

"This ones called ' _I Carry Your Heart With Me_ ' by E. E. Cummings." Jackson shakily began, butterflies stirring in his belly as Ember gripped tighter onto his arm.

"Oh! I've never heard one by E. E. Cummings!" She cheered.

Jackson pressed his forehead against hers only for a moment, his nose brushing against hers before turning his head to the book once again.

"This is a special one."

"Read it! I'm getting impatient." Ember whined, the wind tossing her hair astray as her fingers pried the strands from her eyes.

"Here is the deepest secret nobody knows. Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide." Jackson clearly spoke, his leg tapping anxiously as his heart raced.

 _He was going to tell her_.

"And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart." He paused once again, pulling away from Ember's grasp as she raised a confused eyebrow. He rotated in his spot, staring deeply into the confused girls eyes as he recited the very last line from his memory.

"I carry your heart, I carry it in my heart."

He silently observed her reaction. Ember's brown eyes widened, her lips falling open as her round jaw fell ajar, her fingers darting outward to claim his knee as his heart hammered in his chest.

"I love you, Em."

In that moment, Ember felt absolutely extroardinary. Her heart physically fluttered at his confession, her toes curling in her shoes as her lips curled into a broad smile.

Jackson sat idly beside her, holding his breath as he awaited a response from the girl he so helplessly adored. He's loved her since the moment he met her.

Ember shuffled forward, her hand snaking around his neck, her fingers tangling into the curls at the nape of his neck as she softly pressed her lips to his.

Jackson sat stunned beside her, his lips remaining unmoving for several moments too long as his brain tried to process what the actual fuck was happening.

 _He was kissing Ember._

Jackson's palms darted upward, cupping the beautiful girls face as he moved his lips in sync with hers.

 _Fireworks._

It was as if something inside of him had completely transformed. A warm, tingly feeling spread through his veins, leading all the way down to the tips of his toes as his mind simply exploded.

 _He felt simply weightless._

She'd pulled away abruptly, leaving him a bit disappointed and dissatisfied as he practically begged her to kiss him again.

"I love you too." She revealed.

Jackson's heart fluttered at her words, his mouth beginning to ache from smiling so big.

"Do you really?" He asked.

"Yes. I always have." She assured him, reconnecting their lips once more as she crawled towards his lap, her legs slung over his knees as she gripped tightly onto his neck.

Ember's tongue darted outward, tracing the bottom of Jackson's lips as he obliged, opening his mouth as a satisfied moan emerged from him.

The feeling of being able to finally kiss the girl of his dreams was almost indescribable.

She was his home.

* * *

"You're so beautiful." Jackson hummed, dipping downward to press another open-mouthed kiss to Ember's lips.

She lowly groaned in response, her index finger pressing against his lips to silence him as she stifled a giggle.

"Shh, we don't want to wake Kayla and Teagan."

"Sorry." Jackson murmured, his lips detaching from hers as he peppered soft, delicate kisses along her jaw, a sigh of content falling from her lips as she stirred beneath him.

"Evelyn'll get suspicious if she checks on us and sees my curtains closed." Ember breathed, but let out another sigh when Jackson's teeth lightly clamped down on her neck.

"If you stay quiet, she won't come check." Jackson lowly spoke, his voice vibrating against the flesh of her neck as she dipped her head down, swiftly reconnecting their lips.

It had been an entire three months since Jackson confessed his love for his sweet Ember, and the rest has been bliss.

Most nights were identical to this one. After lights out, Jackson would sneak into Ember's room, curl up underneath the blankets and simply kiss her until his lips went numb.

"Jackson?" Ember croaked.

"Yeah?" He breathlessly inquired, an eyebrow raised as he admired how swollen her lips had become.

 _Because of him._

"Do you want to try?"

Jackson's expression contorted into that of confusion, his elbows resting on either side of her head as he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.

"Try what, baby?"

Ember pressed the palms of her hands against Jackson's shoulders, shoving him away from her slightly as her cheeks went hot.

"C'mon, Jack. Don't make me say it."

Jackson's eyebrows knit together in confusion, his thumb caressing the indents of her jaw as he searched her facial expression for some type of answer.

Suddenly, it dawned on him.

 _Oh._

"A-Are you serious?" He croaked, the blood immediately rushing—down there—at the mere thought of becoming intimate with Ember.

"Yes." She coolly replied, cradling his face as she tugged him back down to her level, pressing sloppy kisses to his lips and chin before suddenly pulling away once again.

"I think it'll be fun."

Jackson let out a staggered breath at her response.

Were they really going to do this?

"Right now?" He squeaked.

"Right now."

Her legs wrapped around his waist, bucking upwards as they suddenly met his.

A loan groan resonated through his chest, his fingers tangling in her brunette locks as it suddenly became difficult to breathe.

"I love you so much, Ember Laine." He hummed, pressing an open-mouted kiss to her jaw as she giggled beneath him.

"I know, baby. I love you too."

"I don't k-know exactly what to—" He stammered, but Ember silenced him with her lips.

"Just do what feels right, Jackson. It's both of our first time, it's not going to be perfect."

"But I want it to be." He whined.

"You deserve the best."

"And you're the best theres ever gonna be."

Jackson blushed, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses down her neck as he began to tug at the hem of her shirt.

Her hands cupped his, halting them in place as she sucked in a breath.

"What?"

"I think we should try to leave as much clothing on as possible, just in case Evelyn walks in or something." Ember frowned. "I'm sorry."

"No, you're right."

Her fingers trailed downward, her nails scratching against the zipper of his jeans as his breath hitched in his throat.

"Are you okay?" She whispered, slightly concerned by the expression plastered on his face.

"Y-Yeah." He rasped, his forehead crinkling as she fumbled with the zipper on his pants. "I'm just nervous." He openly admitted.

"Don't be, baby." Ember cooed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "It's only me."

Jackson instantly calmed at her statement. She was right, it was only Ember.

 _He was going to lose his virginity to Ember._

"Kiss me." She ordered, clutching onto his curls as she tugged his face down to meet hers once more.

"Yes ma'am." He moaned, shrugging himself out of his jeans as Ember tugged her pajama shorts down her legs.

"We have to be quick. Kayla always wakes up at midnight to go to the bathroom." Ember rambled, but was immediately silenced by the foreign feeling of Jackson's fingers against her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, a rather loud moan tumbling from her lips as Jackson's free hand clamped down on her mouth, his eyes wild as he halted his actions.

"Em." He scolded.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just didn't expect that to feel so— _good_."

Jackson's lips curled into a smirk, his tongue darting outward to lick his bottom lip as he resumed his gentle assault on her.

His lips attached to her neck, mumbling a chorus of I love yous against her skin as her toes curled in ecstacy.

"We're going to be happy." Ember whispered.

* * *

"Ember!" Evelyn called, the familiar sound of her heels clicking against the tile piercing the girls ears as she stirred awake.

"Ember! Are you seriously still sleeping?" Evelyn scolded, her tall frame standing in the doorway as her palms rest on her hips in annoyance.

The teenage girl stirred awake, her insides tingling at the glorious night her and Jackson shared only hours prior.

"Go away." She grumbled, turning over in her bed as she buried her face into the pillow.

Evelyn clicked her heels impatiently, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as she approached Ember's bed, tugging the blanket off of her.

"Get up, Ember! There is a couple here who are interested in adopting you!"

Ember's eyes flew open, her chest becoming painfully tight as she flew out of her bed.

"Are they interested in adopting Jackson too?" She immediately asked.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow, her gaze lingering on the paper plane pendant that sat around the teenage girls neck. Just as Jackson and her promised, they'd both worn their necklaces every single day for the past five years.

"No, Ember. Get ready, please. Meet me in the office in fifteen."

With that, Evelyn left the room, leaving behind a hyperventalating Ember in her bed.

She quickly shuffled around the room, pulling on a pair of faded boyfriend jeans and a navy t-shirt, brushing her fingers through her matted hair before exiting the room and bolting towards Jackson's.

Ember found the room deserted, Jackson's bed empty as her heart thumped in her throat.

 _Where was he?_

She paced the orphanage, her eyes peeled in search of the lanky boy with curly hair.

"Ember?" Jackson questioned, grabbing onto her shoulders as she nearly ran into him around the corner. "What is it?"

"I'm getting adopted." Ember spat.

Jackson's heart plummeted in his chest, his hands immediately clamming up as he shook his head.

"N-No. No you're not..."

"Well, I don't know for sure yet. I have to go meet the couple first." Ember shook, her gaze fixated on the floor as she desperately thought of ways to make the couple absolutely despise her.

 _She couldn't leave Jackson... not now... not after last night..._

"Whatever happens, it's going to be okay."

He assured her, cupping her face as she trembled beneath his touch.

"I-I have to go. Wait for me outside the office." Ember cried, tearing from Jackson's grasp as she darted towards Evelyn's office, making it only just on time.

A fairly nice looking couple sat in front of Miss Evelyn's desk, a sincere set of smiles erupting on their lips the moment a panting Ember entered the room.

"Uh, hi. I'm Ember." She breathlessly said, taking a seat between them as Evelyn raised an eyebrow.

"Nice to meet you, Ember." The red-haired woman smiled, her green eyes sparkling as she outstretched a manicured hand. "I'm Georgia, and this is my husband, Evan."

Ember shook Georgia's hand, swiveling in her chair to shake Evan's hand next, which was warm and beefy, the opposite of Georgia's cold, bony palm.

"Now, Ember, you're fifteen, right?" Georgia wondered, her red painted lips pulled into a sincere grin.

"Yes ma'am." Ember blandly replied.

"Well, I know you don't have much longer in the system, but Georgia and I have really been looking over your file, and we'd love to give you a proper home, a home that you can come back to and feel safe at even when you're grown." Evan heartily explained, the black mustache on his upper lip slightly distracting the girl.

"I appreciate your offer, but I—"

"Ember, they've already adopted you." Evelyn interrupted.

Ember's heart seemed to stop beating entirely. Her stomach did a million flips, the sudden urge to vomit arising.

"Congratulations, Ember. Go collect your things and go home with your new family!" Evelyn dryly cheered, a sympathetic look present in her eyes as she thought of the one person Ember couldn't bare to leave: Jackson.

"Oh-Okay." She stuttered, slowly rising from her seat as she shuffled from the room.

Jackson stood outside the door, his hands tucked into the front pocket of his jeans as he chewed mechanically on his lip.

"Em! What happened? What's going on?"

Ember's jaw hung lowly, silent tears slipping from her golden eyes as she stood dumbfounded before the love of her life.

"I was adopted. I have to go pack my things and leave today."

Jackson's face fell.

"You got adopted?"

"Jackson—"

"You said you'd never let us be apart!" He cried, his hands clenching into fists as tears stung in the corners of his eyes.

"I can't help it, Jackson! Do you think I want to leave? Especially after everything we've been through? Especially after last night?" Ember sobbed, her palm clamping over her tear-drenched lips as her chest heaved.

"I can't live without you, Em." He rasped.

"You never have to." Ember pressed, taking his face in her hands as she wiped his fallen tears with the pads of her thumbs. "I'll write to you. As soon as we turn eighteen, we can be together again. I love you, Jackson. I always will."

"Ember," Evelyn interrupted, a brow raised at the scene before her. She always suspected that something more was going on between the two, but she never once questioned it. "Go pack your things. You can say goodbye to Jackson out at the car."

"Meet me outside." Ember whispered, Evelyn tugging her away from Jackson's grip as her adoptive parents strut from the room.

"Oh," Georgia chirped, slightly alarmed by the boys disheveled state. "And who are you?"

"The love of Ember's life." He said.

Ember angrily threw her belongings into a large suitcase, loudly sobbing as she collapsed onto the floor, her knees failing her. She couldn't go... she wouldn't...

Seventeen minutes later, Ember found herself outside of the orphanage, her face flushed as the tears began to dry up.

Evan had already tucked her suitcase into the trunk of the car, taking his seat the the drivers side as Georgia pat her gently on the shoulder.

"We'll be waiting in the car, whenever you're ready." She cooed.

Jackson stood across from her, his left hand tugging at the curls on his head as he choked back sobs.

"I want you to take this." His voice cracked, his hand fishing into the back pocket of his jeans as he handed over the bedraggled book of poems.

"Oh, Jackson." She cried, taking the book from him as she held it closely to her chest. "Thank you."

His eyes trailed downward towards her chest, the paper plane pendant resting nicely on top of her t-shirt as she chewed on her lip.

"You'll always keep it on, won't you?" Jackson wondered.

"Every single day until I die." She promised.

Jackson whimpered, blinking away an array of tears as he outstretched his arms.

"C'mere, baby."

Ember enveloped herself in his arms, squeezing his torso so tightly that he could barely breathe. However, breathing wasn't necessarily important right now. Ten years... ten years of seeing each other every single day, to possibly not seeing each other for several years. The thought alone made his stomach churn.

He buried his face in her hair, memorizing the scent of her shampoo as he held her close, her lips pressing kisses to his collarbone.

"I love you, Jackson." She said, her voice muffled by his shirt as he held her closer.

"I love you more than words will ever describe." He told her, pulling away slightly to look into those beautiful brown eyes.

She pressed her lips to his, lightly, yet passionately. Her bottom lip quivered as he sucked lightly on it, kissing away the tears that slipped down her cheeks as she held him close.

"Time to go, Ember." Evelyn urged, standing several yards away as she watched the two teenagers exchange painful goodbyes.

"Goodbye, Jackson." Ember whispered, pressing one final kiss to his lips before pulling away, the book of poems held against her chest as she climbed into Georgia and Evan's car.

Jackson watched as the car peeled from the driveway, Ember's face watching him through the back window as the vehicle rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

That would be the last time he'd see her for fifteen years.

* * *

 _TOTAL SAP FEST I KNOW._

 _I'm sorry if Joker was out of character here. Obviously, he was always smitten with Ember, and she gave him a true purpose in the world. Her departure is only the beginning of his downfall._

 _ **Up next** : the story of Joker's infamous scars._

 _Stay tuned..._


	11. XI

"Do you want to know why I use a knife? Guns are too quick. You can't savor all the... little emotions. In... you see, in their last moments, people show you who they really are. So in a way, I knew your friends better than you ever did. Would you like to know which of them were cowards?"

—Heath Ledger

* * *

"That'll be two dollars and eight cents."

Jackson thrust his hand into his front pocket, fishing out the old matted wallet as he pried it open with his slender fingers, retrieving a five and handing it to the woman.

"Keep the change." He grinned. The blonde's expression brightened as she took the bill from his grasp, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she pocketed the change.

"Thanks." She mused, handing him his finished coffee as he nodded curtly.

Just as he put the straw to his lips, his phone vibrated against his leg, the coffee spilling from the side of his mouth as he awkwardly answered the phone.

"Baby?" Livy cooed, Jackson's lips tugging into a smirk as he balanced the phone between his shoulder and ear, prying the cafe door open as he accidentally bumped shoulders with a lanky woman with a brunette bob.

"Hey Livy. Everything okay?" Jackson wondered, the tone of his girlfriend's voice posing a bit of concern for him as he took a single sip from his iced coffee.

"Not exactly. Can you come over?" She requested. "Please?"

"Olivia, what's going on?" His voice darkened, halting in his steps as an uneasy feeling settled in his belly. Something was dreadfully wrong.

"N-Nothing. I'll tell you when you get here." She stammered, and the line suddenly went dead.

Jackson's heartbeat accelerated in his chest, his eyes focusing on the blank screen of his phone as he snapped it shut, sighing heavily before finishing off his drink and tossing the empty plastic in the waste bin.

 _What could possibly be wrong with Olivia?_

He found himself outside of the familiar walnut tinted door, a bouquet of roses held tightly in his clutch as his heart thumped thickly in his throat. He'd been seeing Olivia Edison for eleven glorious months, and he was absolutely smitten with her. Ever since Ember left the orphanage, Olivia was the best thing to ever happen to him.

His knuckles collided with the wilting wood, his breath catching in his throat the moment the door swung open.

"Jackson." Livy breathed, a sympathetic expression plastered on her face as she chewed roughly on her bottom lip.

"What's going on, Liv?" He whispered, her blue gaze meeting the mess of flowers that sat in his clutch.

"You brought me flowers?" She blatantly ignored his question, his eyebrows furrowing in slight annoyance.

"Olivia Jane," Jackson pried, his once sparkling brown eyes darkening as he shoved past her, walking through the front door as she let out a yelp. "Tell me what's going on."

"Please don't be angry, Jackson." She began as he set the flowers down on the wooden table that hugged the entryway wall, several framed photos of Olivia and her brother sliding noisily across the wood, one of them toppling over completely. His heart was beating so rapidly that he feared it may explode in his chest.

"Fuck, Liv. Spit it out before I die of a fucking heartattack."

"I'm pregnant." Livy trembled, her fingers laced tightly together as she fiddled her thumbs anxiously.

Jackson's face fell, his hands darting upwards to tug at the thick curls that clung to his head as words escaped him completely.

" _Pregnant_?" He gasped, the feeling in his legs dissipating as he struggled to remain standing. "A-And it's m-mine?"

"Yes, baby. Remember that night on the sofa six weeks ago? In front of the fireplace?" Livy explained, her hands darting outwards to capture his, preventing him from pulling his overgrown dark brown locks completely from his skull.

Jackson's eyes widened, his jaw falling agape as he clearly remembered that rather sensual night with his dearest Olivia, the night where he definitely did not use a condom.

"I'm going to be a dad." He gloated, a genuine smile tugging at his lips as Livy nodded briskly.

"A _what_?" A thick voice erupted from behind the couple, Livy's heart instantly plummeting at the sound.

"Oh, hi Daddy!" She stammered, but the damage had been done. Olivia's drunken father, Charlie, had heard everything.

"So you're telling me," Charlie began, an empty bottle of vodka held tightly between his beefy fingers as he slowly approached the teenagers. "This little shit knocked up my seventeen year old daughter?"

"Daddy—" Livy shook, but Charlie only laughed, the bottle slipping through his fingers as it collided with the wooden floor, bursting into a million tiny shards at their feet.

"Don't _daddy_ me, Olivia. Don't tell me it's fucking true... that this fucking runt planted a little bastard inside of you."

Jackson quaked in his boots. He knew quite well of Charlie Edison. He was consistently drunk, violent, and absolutely unmannerly.

"Sir—" The lanky boy began, but was unable to finish his sentence.

Charlie reached out, his fingers circling around his daughters neck as he forcefully shoved her against the drywall, her eyes flying open in shock as she loudly gasped.

"Stop it!" Jackson scolded, Charlie's gaze darkening as he released his hold on his daughter, a series of sputters emerging from her lips as she struggled to catch her breath.

"She needs to be punished for her actions, pretty boy." The man mocked, his breath fanning over the boys face. It smelt thickly of vodka and stale cigarettes. Jackson couldn't help but visibly grimace at the smell, his limbs buzzing as he desperately tried to compose himself.

"She's only human, sir. It's just human instinct, what happened between us. Plus, you'll have a little grandbaby to drink with in twenty-one years." Jackson nervously spat, his hands trembling as he rambled on.

"Ahh, we've got a bit of a _joker_ over here," Charlie mocked, his non-existant neck burrowing further into his turtleneck shirt as he cleared his throat. "Sorry kid, but your jokes are just plain bad. Now, fuck off, so I can beat the shit out of the sorry excuse for a daughter behind you."

"No!" Jackson exclaimed, thrusting his hands into the air to block the thick man from advancing upon Olivia, who lay motionless on the ground, her dainty fingers still massaging the bruised skin on her neck.

"Please don't hurt her. If you need to hurt someone, hurt me. Please. Not her, not the baby. I deserve the punishment, I'm the one who did this to her."

Livy's jaw dropped at her boyfriends statement. Was he actually going to take the fall for her?

"Jackson, please don't do this. He's very violent—"

"HA!" Charlie roared, his sausage-like fingers instantly claiming the collar of Jackson's navy blue v-neck, the boys breath hitching in his throat at the sudden contact. "Olivia Jane, you haven't even seen the worst I can do."

"Sir, could we maybe discuss this matter when you're a bit more—er—sober?" He innocently wondered. His question was answered when the bloodshot eyed man lifted his feet cleanly from the floor, his hold tightening on Jackson's collar as a yelp escaped Livy's lips.

"Dad! Stop it!"

"Maybe you'll learn not to stick your little dick in places that it doesn't belong." Charlie growled, releasing his hold on the boy as he messily tumbled to the floor, his knees giving out as he collided with the wood, his hands breaking his fall.

"Jackson," Livy whispered, crawling quickly towards her boyfriend as her hands darting outwards, claiming the smoothness of his biceps as she squeezing reassuringly.

An additional yell escaped her tiny frame when she witnessed her fathers boot come into contact below Jackson's belt, a vociferous cry escaping his paling lips as he doubled over in pain, his palms clutching tightly onto his groin as he groaned heavily in pain.

"I oughta castrate your ass for what you've done to my baby girl!" Charlie shouted, swinging his leg back once more before smashing it against the boys groin, colliding with his hands and knuckles as he failed to protect himself from further damage.

"Stop it! Stop! You've hurt him enough!" Livy cried, but her father only mockingly laughed, delivering an additional kick to Jackson's ribcage as he trembled in pain, a pool of metallic blood filling his mouth as he hastily spat it onto the floor.

Tears clouded his vision, the pain in his groin was so severe that he feared he may actually vomit all over himself. The couple failed to notice Charlie's abrupt absence, their main focus surrounding the agonizing pain that Jackson was currently in.

"I can't fucking breathe." He admitted, Livy's lips pulling into a tight frown as she wrapped her arms around his quivering frame.

"C'mon. I'll get you some ice." She whispered, slowly standing to her feet as she gently pulled the boy to his, a whine escaping his trembling lips as he wobbled next to her, the discomfort growing with every step.

The Edison's kitchen hugged the front entryway, sitting only three or so yards from the front door.

Livy helped Jackson sit at the bar, his hands immediately darting outward to cup his genitals as he struggled to sit on the wooden stool, flashes of immense pain covering his features as he winced with every breath. The growing pain in his slowly bruising ribcage momentarily distracted him from the searing pain inflicted upon his privates.

Just as Livy pried open the freezer door in search of a frozen bag of peas, a grubby set of fingers tangled into Jackson's unbrushed curls, yanking roughly before pushing his head forcefully forward, causing it to roughly collide with the counter.

"Dad!" Livy gasped, the bag of vegetables slipping through her fingers and colliding with the tile floor, the plastic ripping open to spill dozens of frozen green peas all over the floor.

Jackson groaned in agony, his hand darting upwards to caress the growing pump on his head and uncovering his waist once again.

Charlie raised an eyebrow, snatching the opportunity to inflict further pain on the boy where it truly counted. He gripped onto the kids long hair once more, yanking him backwards as he tumbled to the floor, the back of his head coming into contact with the tile as a fresh batch of tears streamed down his cheeks.

Jackson wasn't weak, not even in the slightest. He could handle a punch or two every once in awhile, but the pain he currently felt, both emotionally and physically, was almost too much to bear.

"Mr. Edison," He choked, blood pooling into his mouth once again as he mindlessly spat it onto the floor. "I've learned my lesson. I've had enough."

"I don't think you have, kiddo." Charlie grumbled, sinking down onto the floor to hover over the shaking boy, Jackson's left hand clutching his head while the right clutched tightly onto his bruised balls.

"Do you know what I want from this? I want you to learn your lesson. The only way you can truly do that, is if I prevent an atrocity like this from ever occuring again." The man seethed, his rank breath causing the boy to nearly vomit in disgust.

Charlie pulled his arm back, swinging it quickly forward as it came into contact once more with Jackson's bloodied knuckles, the pain electrifying his senses as a laugh fell from his lips.

In no way was this event even remotely funny. In fact, Jackson wasn't entirely sure why a laugh had even escaped his mouth. It was as if his fall had knocked a few screws loose in his brain.

"You think this is funny?" Charlie seethed, his pupils dialating so much so that the color in his eyes had dissipated completely, replaced only by a sea of red and black.

"N-No sir-" Jackson stammered, his laughter immediately ceasing as he lay defeated on the cold floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggled to maintain his breathing.

"You know... you've got quite a handsome face, kiddo."

Jackson's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the immense pain finally subsiding in his lower region as he wondered where this could possibly go.

"It would be quite a shame if someone ruined that pretty face of yours. Then you'll never get a girl ever again."

Charlie's lips pulled into a sinister smile, a whimper escaping Jackson as he feared the absolute worst.

 _What was he going to do to him?_

The man was on top of him, his face dangerously close to his as Jackson cowered into the floor.

He watched intently as Charlie shoved his meaty hand into his front pocket, retracting a sleek black pocket knife and clicking open the blade with ease.

Jackson's eyes widened, his head shaking violently back and forth as he cowered beneath the man.

"Fuck," He yelped. "Please don't-"

Charlie only scoffed, his fingers curling into a tight fist before swinging it downward on the boys face, knocking him out cold as he stilled beneath him on the floor.

Livy screamed in protest as she watched her father bring the knife to her boyfriends face.

* * *

"Michelle! Michelle, please open up!" Livy cried, her knuckles rapping the soft pink door repeatedly as she glanced around the neighborhood.

Jackson lay unconcious at her feet, bleeding profusively from his cheeks as Livy shrieked in a mixture of fear and disgust. Finally, Livy's neighbor Michelle opened the door.

Michelle was a very kind woman in her mid-forties who'd spend nights working at the hospital. Her hair was long and stringy, light brown in color with several strands of gray. Her eyes were brown, sunken into her head from lack of sleep as they widened at the sight of the bleeding boy on the floor.

"Holy shit, Olivia! What happened? Bring him inside." She panicked, swinging the door widely opened as she assisted the teenage girl in carrying the limp boy inside.

A strand of pain-ridden moans slipped from his lips, which were smeared in bright red blood. The sight of him alone made Livy's stomach churn.

"M-My dad." She stammered, heaving Jackson up onto the decorative quilt in Michelle's guest room. "T-The blood'll ruin your quilt—"

"My quilt is the last thing I'm worried about right now, sweetie. Stay with him, I'm going to go get some morphine and stuff to clean up his face."

Michelle scurried from the room, leaving Livy to a stirring Jackson as he sighed in discomfort.

Her hands darted upwards to cup his face, his blood oozing between her fingers as she loudly sobbed above him. There was so much blood... she couldn't even tell the extent of the injury with all the blood in the way.

"Stay with me, Jackson. Please don't leave me. Michelle and I are going to get you better." Livy cried, running her hand through his matted, blood-filled dark curls as she kneeled beside the small bed.

Michelle returned swiftly, a bag of clear liquid in her clutch as she pushed a metal pole into the room for it to hang from.

"Jesus, Michelle. Do you steal all this shit from the hospital?" Livy gaped.

Michelle did not reply. Instead, she quickly positioned the pole on the opposite side of the bed, hanging a clear bag of liquid from the chain as she connected it to a needle.

Livy winced at the sight of the woman quickly wiping Jackson's left inner arm down with an antiseptic wipe, her tongue wetting her lips as she breathed rather loudly.

"I know how you are with needles. Close your eyes." The woman instructed.

Livy obliged, squeezing her eyelids shut tightly until she saw stars, her fingers tangled in Jackson's mop of curls as Michelle sighed.

"Okay, it's in."

The clear fluid began to dribble from the bag, flowing into Jackson's vein from the IV as Michelle began to gather several alcohol wipes.

"I'm going to try and clean the blood off of his face so I can see what I need to stitch up." She explained, plopping onto the bed as she angled herself above the unconcious boy.

Livy's heart hammered in her chest, her eyes wide as she closely observed Michelle's actions.

Her fingers daintily poked at his skin, careful not to add any pressure as she slowly rid his flesh of the blood.

"Jesus." Michelle rasped, clearing most of the blood from his left cheek as her jaw fell open.

"How bad is it?" Livy cried, too afraid to see for herself as she turned her head away.

"It-it's not good, sweet pea. This cut is very deep and jagged, I need to stitch it immediately before it starts bleeding again. Go wait in the living room, okay? I don't want you to see this." Michelle instructed.

Livy froze, her knees locked in place at the side of the bed.

"Go, Olivia. He's in good hands, I promise." She pressed, waving her hand towards the door.

Livy gulped, nodding curtly before shakily standing to her feet and exiting the room, loud cries tumbling from her lips at the situation.

"When will he wake up?"

"When he is ready to." Michelle said, taking a seat at the foot of the guest bed.

Jackson lay motionless on top of the quilt, his shirt stained red with blood as his chest slowly raised and fell. A set of bright blue stitches held the gashes in his cheeks together, covered up by a set of white bandages so that Livy didn't have to see them.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened?" Michelle pried, bringing the mug of steaming tea to her lips as she took a small sip.

Livy exhaled rather loudly, pacing around the room as she avoided Michelle's glare.

Michelle was quite the fan of music, and it was evident in this room alone. The walls were lined with black vinyl treble and bass clefs, as well as framed sheet music of her favorite pieces. From what she'd told Livy, she's been playing the piano for thirty-seven years.

"Please don't be angry with me, Michelle." Livy sighed, finally taking a seat across the room on an old wicker rocking chair.

"I'm your neighbor, Olivia, not your mother." Michelle pressed, her penciled eyebrows knitting together.

"I'm pregnant." Livy revealed, her hands growing clammy with sweat as she bounced her leg anxiously.

Michelle sucked in a breath, glancing in the mutilated boys direction as her expression fell. "And he's the daddy?"

"Yes." Livy breathed.

"My dad overheard me breaking the news to Jackson."

"How old is he?"

"My age. He'll be eighteen in five months. We've been seeing each other a month shy of a year."

Jackson began to stir against Michelle's back, her breath hitching in her throat at the sudden movement as low groans emerged from his lips. The morphine still steadily dripped through Jackson's IV, soothing the extreme pain that coursed through his body.

"Liv?" His throaty voice called, his hands slowly raising to his face to feel the source of the pain.

"Oh my god, _Jackson_!" Livy shrieked, falling against the side of the bed as her hand immediately found its way to his hair.

Jackson's eyelids slowly fluttered open, squeezing shut again quickly before finally reopening and focusing on the scene before him. He was suddenly aware of the needle in his arm, a cooling sensation coursing through his arm as he shivered.

"Does it hurt? Are you in pain?" Livy stammered, her thumb grazing over the bandaged side of his left cheek as he winced.

"A little." He rasped, his bloodshot eyes trailing downward towards the woman who sat at his feet. "Whose that?"

Michelle stood, circling the bed to claim the empty side as she kneeled beside him.

"Hello, Jackson. My name is Michelle. I'm Olivia's neighbor, and a nurse. I'm going to get you all healed up, okay?" The woman cooed.

Jackson whined slightly, the pain in his groin suddenly hitting him like a boulder as his hands darted downward to cradle himself.

"Fuck," He groaned, his voice still raspy and dry. "They hurt."

Michelle raised an eyebrow.

"Did he hurt you down there?"

"I-I don't r-remember—" Jackson stuttered. "I just remember Liv's dad hurting me. What did he do to my face?"

Both Livy and Michelle's hearts stopped.

"Jackson—" Livy cried, her hand caressing through his greasy curls as a look of concern assumed his features.

"Please tell me." He begged, his IV ridden arm raising to caress Livy's face, his thumb tracing circles on her jaw as he wiped away her fallen tears.

"He cut your face." She whispered.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm going to love you no matter what."

Jackson knit his eyebrows together, desperately trying to envision the damage inflicted on his face.

 _What kind of cuts did he have?_

"Do you remember what I told you?" She added.

"I'm going to be a dad." Jackson breathed, his lips curling upwards into a smile before halting suddenly in place, the sudden movement in his cheeks causing him to howl in pain.

"Jackson, relax. Just try not to move your face too much, you don't want to rip the stitches." Michelle lightly scolded, readjusting the shifted bandage on his cheek.

Thick tears flooded Jackson's sight, his chest heaving as he choked back sobs.

"It's okay, baby. Michelle's going to take care of you. I'm going to come visit you when I can... I don't want my dad to find out you're staying here." Livy rambled.

"Olivia, let Jackson get some rest. You can come visit tomorrow." Michelle pressed, her fingers tangled in Jackson's hair as she gently rubbed his head soothingly.

"Okay. I love you, Jackson. I'll see you later." She whispered, carefully pressing a petite kiss to his un-moving lips before quickly scurrying from the room.

* * *

 ** _Three months later_**

Jackson stood in the bathroom, the familiar white bandages covering his disfigured cheeks as his chest heaved painfully.

Michelle had taken better care of him in the past three months than Evelyn had in the past fourteen years. Evelyn probably hadn't even realized his absence. He was a nobody at the orphanage, a freak. Ever since Ember left, nobody paid him any mind. It was as if he didn't even exist.

At Michelle's house, he existed. He mattered.

According to the middle-aged woman, he was like a son to her. Although he'd only known her for three solid months, he felt the same way. She had her own son up until two years ago. He died in a car accident at seventeen, and her husband left her for another woman to cope with the pain of losing his child. It seemed that Michelle and Jackson both had rather shitty lives, maybe that's why they bonded so well.

Michelle sat perched up against the closed bathroom door, her back resting against the cool wood as she awaited Jackson's reaction to his gashes.

He would be seeing his face for the first time today since the incident.

His palms rest firmly on the counter, the skin in his hands creasing from the edge of the counter as he struggled to breathe.

Jackson's fingers slowly creeped up to his face, his thumb peeling the tape from his face at an agonizingly slow pace as he chewed unceremoniously on his bottom lip, which had a two nasty scars imprinted into the skin. Those cuts were the only ones that Michelle hadn't covered, and he feared that it was the least ugly of them both. They reminded Jackson of a wishbone, hugging the center of his lip as it curled towards the right and into the bandage.

The bandage slowly lifted from his right cheek, draping against his index finger as he slowly pried it from his face.

Michelle had removed the stitches only recently, and the pink, damaged skin began to peek through as the bandage lowered even further.

His heart thudded painfully in his ribcage when the tip of a hideous laceration came into view. It curled slightly in the direction of his nose, instead of pointing upwards like he'd imagined. The skin at the very tip of the cut bunched slightly at the sides, hugging the bright red skin as he scoffed at the sight.

The bandage toppled to the floor, his hands shaking turbulently as they raised to the bandage on the left side of his face.

His chestnut brown eyes avoided the hideous deformity on his right cheek, his breath shallow as he took the second bandage between his fingers and began to pull it downward.

A horrified gasp escaped his lips when the bandage fell to the floor, his eyes widening at the reflection in the mirror.

His left cheek was far worse than his right.

The skin was choppy and raised, bunching up against a bright red laceration on his skin. This scar didn't travel as far up his face as the right one did, but it was by far the most hideous of them both.

His fingers lightly traced the ghastly bumps on his skin, his jaw dropping at the sight and feeling of the skin as a horrified cry fell from his mouth.

Michelle winced at his muffled cries through the door, tears falling from her eyes as a strand of profanities slipped from Jackson's lips inside the bathroom.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the sound of glass shattering caused the words to freeze in her throat.

Jackson sat against the tub when she entered, his hands tugging at his dark curls as he slouched on the floor, sobbing profusively as blood trickled from his knuckles.

Michelle's eyes widened at the abundance of glass that littered the floor, the vast mirror that once hugged the wall lay in shambles all over the sink, counter and tile floor as Jackson cowered on the floor.

"Jackson." Michelle cooed, avoiding the shards of glass as she fell to her knees before him, her hands claiming his wrists as she tugged his hands from his curls.

"I'm fucking hideous, Michelle." He sobbed, burying his face into her chest as he balled his hands into fists.

"You are not hideous, Jackson!" The woman scolded, cupping his face carefully with her hands as she tugged him from her chest.

His eyes met hers, bloodshot and swollen as he crumbled beneath her. Michelle's heart plummeted at the sight of him, her eyes trailing over the gashes that mutilated his face as she sighed.

"You are an amazing young man, Jackson. You're handsome, you're funny, and most importantly, you are a good man. You're going to be an amazing father to your daughter."

 _His daughter._

Jackson's heart fluttered at her words. She was right... he was going to be the best dad he could possibly be to his baby girl.

"T-Thank you, Michelle." He squeaked, wrapping his lanky arms around her torso as he sniffled. "You're the only person whose actually taken care of me. My parents didn't want me... the mother of the orphanage barely knew that I even existed..."

"Shhh," Michelle cooed, running a hand through the boys curls as he held her close. "I'm here for you, I'll always be here for you. I think of you as my son."

Jackson lifted his head from her chest, his bottom lip quivering as his eyes bore into hers.

"I love you, Mom."

* * *

Michelle trudged up the steps of Evelyn's Orphanage, her purse clutched tightly to her chest as she hastily knocked.

The sound of children gleefully screaming on the other side of the door made her stomach churn. If all goes well, Jackson would legally be hers within the next hour.

A woman pried open the door moments after Michelle had rang the doorbell. Her lips were painted bright purple, and her hair was pulled away from her face in a tight bun.

"Hello, can I help you?" Evelyn greeted, folding her hands as Michelle shifted her weight from each foot.

"Hi, my name is Michelle. We spoke on the phone?" She squeaked, her hands beginning to sweat.

"Oh!" Evelyn chirped.

"That's right! Come on in!"

Michelle kept her head low as she followed Evelyn to the nearby office inside the obscenely large home.

This is where Jackson grew up.

"Take a seat, please." Evelyn smiled, outstretching her arm in the direction of a carob tinted plush chair in front of her unkempt desk.

"Would you like to take a look at the children's portfolios?"

"I actually know who I want to adopt already, Miss." Michelle explained, fiddling with the zipper on her purse as she fidgeted in her seat.

"Oh! Who?" Evelyn raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, Jackson." Michelle confidently spoke.

"Jackson turns of-age in two months. There's no point in adopting him." Evelyn bluntly stated.

"Miss, if you will, I'd still like to adopt him. I want to be his legal guardian, his actual mother. I adore the boy with all of my heart and I want to give him a home." Michelle rambled.

"You adore him? How do you know him?" Evelyn pried.

"He's dating my neighbors daughter, I see him all the time. He's a lovely boy, I'd really love if you could do this for me, Evelyn." Michelle begged.

"Very well. Although, full disclosure does require me to inform you of any medical issues pertaining to the child you are adopting. Jackson has mentioned to me that he sometimes hears—voices—in his head. He refuses to see a psychiatrist, but I'm sure you may be able to convince him otherwise. He's always been a bit, well, odd." Evelyn explained, retrieving Jackson's file from the desk as she handed over a mess of paperwork for Michelle to fill out.

"He's not odd in the least bit. He's actually a very kind and outgoing boy." Michelle impatiently countered, scribbling her information on the paperwork as she avoided Evelyn's prying gaze.

Evelyn raised an eyebrow.

"Are we talking about the same Jackson? The kid who wears the paper plane necklace every single day?"

 _She noticed that necklace too?_

Michelle still hadn't asked him about the paper plane, but it was evident that it truly meant something to him if he wore it every single day growing up.

"Yes, the very same one." Michelle gloated.

"Alright then." Evelyn said, taking the paperwork from Michelle's grasp as she placed it in Jackson's folder.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, er, I actually don't think I caught your last name?"

"Napier. Mrs. Napier."

* * *

 _ **A/N** : Originally I was going to include so much more in this chapter, but I decided to split it up because I didn't want this to be 100 pages lol._

 _ANYWAYS, what do you guys think?! Was this chapter okay?! Also, this chapter is based in 1995, because the present time in the story is based in 2008._

 _ **Coming soon** : Jackson's transformation into the legendary Joker..._


	12. XII

**A/N** : A bit of a dark chapter.

 _Also, I apologize for all the time jumps. Jackson didn't become the Joker overnight._

Word Count: 7101

 **I present to you:**

 **Jackson's transformation into The Joker.**

* * *

"Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars."

—Kahlil Gibran

* * *

" _Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Jackson, happy birthday to you_!" Michelle and Livy playfully sung.

"Make a wish!" Michelle gleamed, her palm resting on Jackson's shoulder as his lips curled into a grin.

His eyes screwed shut, his tongue tracing the scar on his bottom lip as he thought of a good wish.

 _I hope my daughter won't be afraid of me._

Jackson's lips curled into an "o" shape, blowing out the eighteen candles on the chocolate frosted cake as Livy cheered beside him, her swollen belly brushing against his elbow as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"What'd you wish for?" She smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips. The scar on his bottom lip brushed against hers slightly, the still rather odd feeling making her toes curl as she weakly smiled.

"That Avery won't be afraid of me." He revealed, his chocolate brown gaze settling on her lips as he practically begged her for another kiss.

"Oh Jackson," Livy cooed, her thumb grazing over the deep folds of his left scar as she pulled her lip between her teeth. "Avery is going to love you no matter what you look like."

Jackson's lips tugged into a smirk, Michelle snatching the cake from in front of him as she sunk the knife into it, portioning out a piece for each of them.

"I have a gift for you, Jackson." She said, handing him a slice of vanilla cake with chocolate frosting.

"Mom, you didn't have to." He smiled, his palm resting on Livy's belly as his thumb traced circles against the sheer fabric of her shirt.

Avery moved beneath his touch, her small foot pressing against Livy's belly as it met Jackson's palm.

"She only ever kicks when you're touching my belly!" Livy huffed, Jackson's heart leaping into his throat at the simple action. He absolutely loved feeling his baby daughter kick against his palm. She wasn't even due for another three months and she already had him wrapped around her tiny finger.

"And when she hears your voice. Fuck, Jackson, she's already obsessed with you. I'm actually a little jealous."

"It's because she knows that I'm going to spoil the living shit out of her." Jackson chimed, his palm retracting from Livy's belly as Michelle handed him a black wrapped box, complete with a green bow.

"Wow, thank you, Mom. The last time I got a birthday present was..." Jackson began, but his expression suddenly faltered when memories of picking out the paper plane necklaces with Ember eight years ago flooded his mind. The coolness of the silver pendant sat neatly upon his chest, concealed by his navy Guy Harvey t-shirt that used to belong to Michelle's bilogical son.

"Just open it!" Michelle impatiently said, her hands clapping together in excitement as Jackson tugged the bow from the box, ripping the paper open with his nails.

He took the gift in his hand, a smile toying at his lips as he twirled the flourescent purple switchblade between his fingers, the paint sparkling underneath the aritifical lighting of the dining room.

"Gotham isn't safe anymore, darling. Always keep this with you to protect you." Michelle explained, her hand clamping down on his shoulder as he twirled the closed switchblade between his fingers.

Jackson's thumb flicked open the blade, the tip of his finger toying with the sharp tip as it gleamed in his palm.

Something seemed to stir inside him as he held the blade between his fingers. It was as if it was his lifeline. He felt _complete_.

A sense of exuberance coursed through his veins as the blade clicked back into place, his lips curling into a devilish grin as he pocketed the present.

"Thank you, Mom. I love it." He beamed, twisting in his seat so that he could give Michelle an awkward sideways hug.

That alluring purple switchblade would only be the very beginning of Jackson's deep fascination for knives.

* * *

 _ **Three months later**_

"Have you thought about getting a job, sweet pea?" Michelle wondered, stirring the boiling pot of noodles as Jackson sat at the dining room table, immersed in a book of poetry he'd gotten from the library.

"Some guy offered me a few odd jobs." Jackson dryly explained, scribbling one of his favorite lines from a poem onto a sheet of lined paper. His foot tapped irritably against the wood floor, his scarred lip pulled between his teeth as he flipped through the book.

"That's great, honey." Michelle said, straining the water from the pot as she portioned the fettuccine into bowls, topping the noodles with her homemade alfredo sauce before placing a bowl in front of Jackson's book.

She took a seat across from him at the old wooden table, her fork twisting a long noodle around it as she stared at the necklace around his neck.

"You still haven't told me the story about that paper plane necklace." She said, scooping a forkful of noodles into her mouth.

Jackson's leg froze in place, his lungs forgetting how to intake air as Ember's beautiful face bombarded his mind.

 _He should be having a baby with Ember, not Olivia._

"Uh," Jackson stammered, the ball-point pen tumbling from his grasp as it clicked against the wood of the table. "It's a friendship necklace, kind of."

Michelle raised a penciled eyebrow.

"Friendship necklace? I didn't know guys did that."

"Er, it's not with another guy. Her name's Ember." He whispered, his chest painfully beginning to ache as he blinked away tears. "We lived together at the orphanage for ten years. We were inseparable. She got adopted when we were fifteen and I haven't seen or heard from her since."

Michelle gauged Jackson's expression, her hand darting across the table to capture his as she sympathetically squeezed it.

"You loved her, didn't you?"

"Still do." He admitted.

"She was my first everything."

"Does Olivia know about her?" Michelle gently wondered.

Jackson merely shook his head, his tongue darting outward to trace the destroyed flesh of his left cheek. It was a habit he'd only recently picked up: licking his scars. Michelle warned him that if he kept doing it, he wouldn't be able to stop. She unfortunately had been right.

"It would probably be best not to tell her." She whispered, patting the top of his hand before returning to her bowl of noodles. "Did Ember like poetry too?"

 _Fuck._

Jackson's hand darted up to claim his dark curls, tugging arduously at them as he choked back tears.

"Baby, please don't cry... I'm so sorry." Michelle cried, standing from her seat and rounding the table to take Jackson's head in her arms, holding him close to her chest as he began to openly sob.

"I'm so fucking _pitiful_. I really am a freak."

"Stop it!" Michelle scolded, cupping his cheeks with her hands as she pulled his face from her chest. His beautiful brown eyes sparkled with tears as his tongue lapped out to outline his right scar.

"You are not pitiful and you are absolutely not a freak." Michelle stated, the pads of her thumbs wiping away his fallen tears as his lips curled into a weak, closed-mouthed grin.

"You're my Mom, you're supposed to say that."

"No," Michelle began. "You know how I am. If you were a freak, I would tell you."

She pressed a kiss to his clammy forehead, her manicured fingers running through his tangled curls as he relaxed under her touch.

He'd known Michelle Napier for only eight months, but to him, she was his mother. He loved her more than words could even describe. She saved his life, she nursed him to health, she fed him and clothed him and gave him a loving home... everything that he's been craving for his entire life.

Jackson's phone vibrated in his pocket, his face pulling away from Michelle's grasp as he shoved his hand into his pant pocket to retrieve the cell phone.

"Hello?" He answered, chewing mindlessly on his bottom lip.

"Jackson? It's Livy. Avery's coming!"

Jackson's heart stopped clean in his chest, the wind escaping his lungs as the phone nearly toppled from his clutch.

"What?" Michelle mouthed, slightly concerned by his reaction.

"M-My daughters coming."

Jackson and Michelle arrived at Gotham General Hospital thirty minutes later, Jackson's heart nearly bursting from his chest as he thrust the car door open while it was still in drive, sprinting towards the front doors as Michelle parked the car.

He was out of breath when he approached the oval desk, a woman in Scooby Doo printed scrubs sitting at a computer as he panted before her.

Her gaze settled upon his, her expression contorting into a mixture of horror and disgust as her eyes met the ghastly scars on each cheek.

"Sir!" She yelped, a hand clutching her chest, directly over her heart. "This is the Labor and Delivery ward, you need to go to the Emergency Room!"

"W-What?" Jackson panted, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion as realization suddenly dawned on him: _his fucking face._

"O-Oh. No... no these are scars. I'm okay." He stammered, growing more and more uncomfortable by the way the woman gawked at him. "I need to see my girlfriend, she's in labor with our daughter. Olivia Edison?"

The nurse's eyes flickered away, searching the computer for Livy's room as she awkwardly stole glances at his mutilated face.

 _This is why he barely goes out in public._

"Third floor, room 303." She shakily said, trying her best not to stare, but failing miserably.

Michelle appeared behind him, her gaze meeting the womans as hers darkened in annoyance.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to stare?" She scolded. "C'mon, Jackson."

"Wait, he needs his bracelet." The nurse stammered, ripping a bright green paper bracelet off of a paper as she quickly tied it around Jackson's left wrist. "And you can't go back, ma'am."

"Call me when Avery's here, okay?" Michelle cooed in her sons ear, wrapping her arms tightly around his broad shoulders.

Jackson's heart raced as he paced the hospital, finally spotting Livy's room as he bombarded through the door.

Livy sat upright in the bed, a styrofoam cup in her hands as she slowly sipped through a straw.

Her mother, Claire, sat on bench beside her, her eyes flickering over to Jackson as a horrified expression overcame her.

"Oh my god." She announced, covering her mouth with her hands as Jackson slowly approached the bed, his chest heaving slightly from running up to the room as Livy's lips curled into a grin.

"Mommy, you remember Jackson." She simply said, outstretching her arm as she wiggled her fingers, prompting him to take her hand.

He obliged, lacing his trembling fingers with hers as he observed the dumbfounded look on Claire's face.

"Y-Yes, of course. Is this what your father did?" She lowly inquired, blatantly staring at the lacerations on Jackson's face as he avoided her prying gaze.

"Unfortunately." Livy sighed. "I still think he's handsome."

"O-Oh. Of c-course he is." Claire stuttered, simply mortified by the fact that Livy could even stand to look at that hideous face.

"I'm seven centimeters," Livy explained, squeezing Jackson's hand. She could practically feel his severely racing heartbeat through his palm. "Avery's almost here!"

Jackson chuckled in glee, smiling so large that his scars began to tingle a bit.

"I'm so excited to meet her." He admitted, dragging a chair over to sit directly next to the bed, his hand still firmly clutching Livy's as her mother continued to glare at his face.

Three hours later, the doctors informed Livy that it was time to start pushing.

Jackson stood beside her bed, her hand squeezing his painfully tight at the doctors and nurses cautiously avoided gaping at his face. Truth be told, he was actually quite horrifying to look at.

"I need you to push harder, Olivia." The doctor lightly scolded.

Livy sobbed loudly beside Jackson, her mother clutching onto her opposite hand as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear, encouraging her to keep going.

"Just one more push, Olivia! One more!" The nurse encouraged.

Livy let out a strained scream, pushing as hard as she possibly could as she nearly strangled Jackson's hand.

Then... _bliss_.

The sweet, beautiful first cry of Jackson's baby girl filled his ears, his heart leaping into his throat as his mouth suddenly went dry. It was, by far, the best sound he had ever heard.

"It's a girl!" The doctor exclaimed, placing the bloody, screaming baby on Livy's chest as she uncontrollably sobbed.

Jackson shook violently as he finally took his first good look at little Avery, only to suddenly stop breathing entirely at the sight of her.

She was... _Asian?_

His eyebrows knit tightly together in confusion as Livy cradled sweet Avery, pressing kisses to the babies forehead as her mother, Claire, cut the umbilical chord.

Jackson stood frozen, his body completely numb as the nurses took Avery away to clean her up.

Livy's eyes met his, a look of concern etched on her features as she reached out for his hand.

He backed slowly away, his forehead heavily crinkled in confusion as he shook his head.

"Whose daughter is that?" He asked.

"Jackson—" Livy whined, but he only backed further away, his heart sinking lowly in his chest as he began to shake.

 _This wasn't happening... this couldn't be happening._

His gaze suddenly darkened, his once soft, chocolate brown orbs shifting to a menacing solid black color, his hands curling into fists at his sides as the nurses gave a swaddled Avery back to Livy.

"I'm sorry, Jackson." She cried, but he couldn't bear to even look at her.

Jackson stormed from the room, shoving the door open so forcefully that it loudly collided with the wall, causing several nearby nurses to jump in fear. The ghastly scars on his face didn't exactly help his case either.

Michelle sat in the waiting room, her nose stuffed in a cooking magazine as she tapped her foot contently. The sudden sound of a door being abruptly opened startled her, her gaze shifting upwards to see Jackson storming from the building.

"Jackson!" She called, the magazine toppling to the floor as she darted after him, her hands gripping onto his heaving shoulders as he collapsed outside, his knees buckling as he fell to the concrete.

"That _bitch_!" He seethed, his fists colliding with the concrete sidewalk as he violently shook under Michelle's touch.

"Hey, _hey_!" She called, sinking to his level as her hands traveled to his face. Her purse slid from her shoulder, falling to the floor with a _thud_ as she desperately attempted to calm Jackson down.

"Talk to me!" She ordered, her voice rushed and shaking slightly as Jackson merely glared at her.

"She isn't _mine_." He darkly spoke, his voice resembling that of a growl as his tongue snaked outward to feel his scars.

"They all _gawked_ at me, like I'm some kind of _freak_."

"Avery isn't yours? How do you know?" Michelle gasped.

"She's fucking Asian." He replied. "She lied to me..."

"It's okay, baby. Let's go home, okay?" Michelle cooed, helping him to his feet as she quickly claimed her bag from the ground, steering him in the direction of the parked car.

Jackson lay in the same spot on his bed for a solid twenty-seven hours, moving only to piss.

Michelle practically forced food down his throat, reminding him that if he didn't eat he'd simply feel worse.

But absolutely nothing could feel worse than this.

 _Betrayal._

Olivia Jane Edison _lied_ to him. She made him believe that the life growing in her womb was because of him, when, in fact, it was because of the little Asian boy named Ken who lived down the street.

The worst part of all, however, wasn't the that Avery wasn't his. It was the fact that he'd _sacrificed_ himself, had himself fucking _disfigured_ to protect Livy and the unborn baby. The scars that destroyed his face were for _nothing_.

He practically shook in anger, bringing the pillow tightly to his face as he shouted into it.

Michelle stood directly outside of his bedroom, which was the very same one that he lay in the first day Livy'd brought him over. Michelle had converted it into a more boy-friendly room, even though Jackson insisted that it was fine the way it was.

Her heart sunk at the abundance of profanities that left his mouth. Clutched tightly in her hand, was some even worse news for him. She wasn't quite sure if this was the right time, but it sure fit the situation well.

"Jackson?" She softly called, rounding the corner as she hastily entered the room.

Jackson lay curled up underneath the sheets, his curls greasy and thrown askew as he buried his face into the pillow underneath him.

"Sweetheart..." She cooed, taking a seat at the foot of his bed as she laced her fingers around his ankle.

"Yeah?" He throatily croaked, his bloodshot eyes meeting hers as he cowered against the blankets.

"I-I think you should sit up for this, sweetie." Michelle stammered, picking at the skin on her fingers as Jackson slowly sat up.

He scooted closer to her, his mouth held ajar as he observed the concerned look on his mothers face.

"Mom? What is it?"

"Do you remember when I asked if Charlie hurt your genitals?" She slowly spoke, avoiding his gaze.

"Uh, yeah?" He raised a brow.

"Well, I checked them out to make sure that you wouldn't need any surgery or anything, and you had some pretty severe bruising on your balls. So I did some tests on them, and, uh..." She trailed off, twisting the paper between her fingers as Jackson's heartbeat accelerated.

"What? Do I have cancer now? What is it?" He worriedly pried, his fingers lacing around her arm as she bit her lip.

"Jackson, the damage inflicted upon your genitals made you infertile."

Jackson's jaw hung lowly open, his hands began to shake as Michelle's bottom lip quivered.

"I'm sorry, baby. You can't have any kids."

* * *

One-thirty AM.

Jackson sat outside the back door of Olivia Edison's home, his back perched against the uneven bricks as he twirled the unused purple switchblade between his fingers.

His legs were clad in a pair of black jeans, the ankles tucked nicely into his sloppily laced combat boots as his hoodie's hood covered his face. Greasy strands of dark curls lay in his eyes, his tongue intently tracing the shape of his jagged scar on his left cheek as he waited.

 _Don't do this, Jackson. This is wrong._

 _But just imagine how fucking amazing you'll feel afterwards._

The kitchen light from inside the house bled through the open window and onto the grass outside.

Jackson's lips curled into a sinister smirk as he slowly rose from his position, peeking through the open window to see the sorry excuse for a man, Charlie, standing in front of the refrigerator in nothing but his boxers.

Jackson placed the blade between his teeth, clamping down lightly as he slunk through the open window, silently creeping through the room as he approached the man.

Charlie slowly turned around, munching loudly on cookies as Jackson quickly fell to his knees, crouching behind the island counter as he took the blade from his teeth, holding it tightly in his palm.

Charlie hummed a tune under his breath, a scruffy cough tumbling from his lips as Jackson grimaced behind the counter.

 _Any moment now..._

"Come _on_ , come _onnn_..." Jackson hissed under his breath, his tone shifting to a higher-pitch as he impatiently clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

Charlie finally rounded the counter, about to take his spot on the nearby stool when Jackson stealthily hopped from the ground, his hand cupping the back of Charlie's head as the knife rest against his lips.

Charlie's eyebrows raised, a throaty chuckle falling from his lips as he merely rolled his eyes.

"Oho, it's the little _joker_. What are you gonna do, kid? _Stab_ me? Those are some pretty gnarly scars ya got." He mocked, his eyes scanning over his handywork on the boys face.

"Take a good look, fuck face." Jackson seethed. "The little shit isn't even _mine_ , and my face is going to look like this forever."

Charlie merely shrugged. "Not my problem, kiddo."

"Fuck you." Jackson spat, lowering the knife from Charlie's face, resting the tip of the blade against the beefy mans chest. "Any last words?"

"For the last time, joker. Your jokes aren't fucking funny." Charlie spoke, but choked back his words the moment Jackson pressed his palms flatly against his chest, shoving him onto the floor.

Charlie's skull cracked against the tile as he let out a throaty groan. Jackson crawled on top of him, straddling the cowards waist as he positioned the tip of the knife against his chest.

"You know wha- _t_ ," Jackson drawled, his voice nasally and haunting as he overpronounced his " _t_ ".

 _Where did this voice come from?_

"I actually really _like_ that little nickname."

Before Charlie could speak, Jackson raised his arm, plunging the knife deeply into the mans chest, directly into his heart.

" _Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you_!" Jackson chanted, twisting the blade inside of Charlie's chest as he spluttered beneath him, choking a bit of blood up as it splattered against Jackson's face.

A strand of warm blood began to coat his hand, seeping through his fingers as an indescribable feeling overcame him. The feeling of Charlie bleeding to death underneath him was simply glorious.

It was almost euphoric, to feel the warmth between his fingers. A strange sensation began to swirl in his belly, a giggle escaping his lips as he smeared the blood over the dead mans chest, spitting carelessly onto his face before climbing off of him.

Surprisingly, no one in the house awoke from the sound. Both Olivia and Claire still slept soundly in their beds, while Charlie lay dead at Jackson's feet.

His heart thudded painfully in his chest as he rounded the counter, twisting on the faucet as he washed the blood from the blade and his hands, clicking the blade closed before returning it to his jean pocket.

Jackson stood cross-legged in front of the corpse, leaning his side against the counter as he thoroughly thought of a way to dispose of the body.

 _Livy has a fire pit outside._

A sinister laugh fell from his lips, his fingers lacing around the mans ankles as he drug him across the floor, smearing a mess of blood along the tile as he brought him through the back door and into the back lawn.

Trying to rotate Charlie's body over the rocks and into the fire pit proved rather difficult, but once his limp body was fully in, Jackson let out an additional sinister laugh, resembling that of a cackle as he snatched the lighter from his pocket and ignited the pit.

As Jackson watched Charlie's body burn right before his eyes, an overwhelming feeling came over him. He was happy to see the filth burn before his eyes, and it slightly terrified him that he was so calm about the situation at hand. He'd just fucking killed someone, he'd ended a mans life, just like that. And he didn't even regret it. _Not. One. Bit._

In that moment, Jackson felt himself spiral further and further into the pits of insanity.

* * *

Jackson paced the streets of Gotham, deep in the Narrows as he continually checked the watch on his left wrist.

It was well past midnight, and his face was shielded by the dark hood of his deep purple jacket.

Supposedly, he would be meeting up with a man named Ryder for a few odd jobs. Michelle had assured him that someone would surely hire him, regardless of his face. Unfortunately, she had been wrong, as Jackson attended more than six interviews. At every single interview, they blatantly stared at his face, promising to "call him". He never got any calls back.

Jackson arrived at the disheveled building, becoming aware of the weight of his switchblade in his front pocket at his knuckles collided with the deteriorating wood.

The door slowly pried open, revealing an extremely tall man with a deep gash that traveled down the shape of his jaw.

"Er, Ryder?" Jackson questioned, his tongue tracing the indents of his left scar.

"J?" Ryder asked, his voice deep and thick as the door opened further. "I'll be damned. If I would've known you had such a gnarly face, I would've had the whole crew over to meet yah. Come in."

Jackson's brows raised, an uneasy feeling rising in his belly as he entered the premises, which smelt strongly of gunpowder and stale cigarettes.

"Ever shoot a gun, J?"

Jackson shook his head.

Ryder chuckled, a large hand clamping down on the skinny boys shoulder as he squeezed.

"You have a lot to learn, bud."

Michelle sat at the dining room table, an abundance of bills scattered over the surface as she calculated the totals on an old calculator.

One of her penciled-in gray eyebrows rasied suspiciously when a low, muffled grunt emerged through the wall behind her, the wall belonging to Jackson's bedroom.

The woman craned her neck, peeking in the direction of the hallway as the sudden sound of a bedroom door opening startled her slightly.

A girl, possibly around twenty, stumbled from the room, her pitifully dyed blonde hair thrown astray as bright red lipstick sat smeared around her lips and onto her cheeks.

She stole a single glance at the middle-aged woman, before readjusting her heel and scurrying from the house, slamming the front door shut behind her.

Jackson hesitantly appeared in the doorway, a hand in his hair as he avoided Michelle's stern glare.

"Whose that?" Michelle called, returning her gaze to the bills in front of her as Jackson shoved his hands messily in his front pockets.

"Uh, Lily."

"Huh," Michelle grunted, focusing solely on the paper before her as Jackson awkwardly scratched his head. "Well, I'm glad to see that you're donating to whores-are-us."

"I didn't pay her. She's not a prostitute." He quickly defended, pacing around the room as Michelle merely rolled her eyes.

"What is she, then? Because she's the third girl to walk out of you room in the past week."

Jackson's brows raised, his breath hitching in his throat as Michelle's beady eyes bore into his.

"I'm not fucking blind nor stupid, Jackson. If I'm being quite honest, you're a little loud."

He openly scoffed at her statement, his forehead creasing in disgust as he shook his head. "Fuck, Mom. Please never say that again."

"What's going on with you, baby? I know you're grieving over Avery, but you're doing it in all the wrong ways. You're sinking yourself into random girls, you always smell like gasoline and gunpowder. What have you been doing behind my back?"

Jackson sucked tightly on his bottom lip, his arms darting outward to circle around Michelle's seated frame, his chin resting on her head as her fingers circled around his arms.

"I'm not a good person, Mom." He lowly spoke. "I have these... _urges_."

"You killed Charlie Edison, didn't you?" Michelle interrupted, tracing circles against the skin of his arm as he tensed above her.

"Will you send me to the looney-bin if I say yes?"

Michelle rotated in her seat, her eyes meeting Jackson's sad gaze as her hand cupped his scarred face.

"Jackson," She cooed, tracing the deep folds of his right scar. "You're my son. I would never judge you for anything you do. I will love you no matter what you do or how you act."

 _How did he get so lucky to find such an amazing woman to be his mother?_

"His ashes are scattered all over his yard." He grinned.

Michelle smiled.

"The douche had it coming, anyways. He deserved it for what he did to you."

* * *

Most nights were similar to this one.

Jackson met up with Ryder five times a week to learn how to be the absolute best criminal.

He simply didn't have much to live for anymore. Ember was non-existant, good as fucking dead for all he cared at the moment. Livy was lucky not to be dead, as he couldn't bring himself to make Avery an orphan. He knew how that life was, and it was pure torture.

The only people who seemed to appreciate his talents and not goggle at his face (besides Michelle, of course) were Ryder and his people.

 _They appreciated him._

"Fuck, dude. You're fucking _ugly_." A throaty voice called from the alley adjacent to Jackson.

He froze in place, his blood running cold at the comment.

His gaze darkened, his neck slowly craning in the direction of a frail middle-aged man with wild eyes against the brick wall of an old bar.

"Wha- _t_?" Jackson lowly spat.

"You're a fucking freak, dude. What happened to your face?"

 _Freak._

In a fraction of a second, Jackson had the sorry excuse for a man pinned harshly against the wall. His left hand claimed a chunk of his hair to steady his face as his right held the sharp blade of his favorite knife against his mouth.

"D'yah want to _repeat_ that, _pal_?" The clowny voice slipped involuntarily through his lips.

The mans eyes widened at the sound, his body squirming underneath Jackson's sharp hold.

"Fuck dude, let me go!" He pitifully begged.

Jackson's lips curled into a sinister grin, his scars stretching upwards as the soft brown color of his eyes transforming into a solid black.

"Too late for that, _bud_."

Before the man could speak, Jackson quickly swiped the knife against the thin skin along his neck, hopping backwards to avoid the sharp spray of blood.

The boy watched intently as the man choked, his grubby hands clinging to his neck as if to stop the bleeding.

"I'm _not_ a fucking frea- _k_." Jackson muttered under his breath, leaning down once again to wipe the shiny blood from the blade against the mans shirt as he stilled indefinitely beneath him.

* * *

Twelve-thirty AM.

Michelle lounged on the sofa, the dark living room illuminated solely by the low lighting of the television as she drifted in and out of conciousness.

Typically, she liked to stay awake until Jackson came home. Tonight, she was beginning to grow a bit worried.

She knew quite well that he'd killed additional people since Charlie's death seven months ago. His switchblade collection was growing, as she frequently found him cleaning them in the kitchen sink.

Staying true to her promise, she didn't once question him. No matter what he did, she loved him unconditionally, as if she'd given birth to him herself. Jackson would always be her son, even long after he left the comfort of her home.

The low click of the front door opening woke her from her light sleep. She peered over the back of the couch, her eyes focusing on a hunched dark figure stumbling into the house.

"Jackson?" She called, sitting up quickly as he collapsed against the wall, his left hand clutching tightly onto his side as a whine escaped his lips.

"M-Mom—" He croaked, his knees buckling as he sunk to the floor.

Michelle lept from the couch, rushing immediately to his aide to see a large amount of blood oozing from his side, coating his fingers as he lay defeated on the ground.

"Fuck, Jackson." She sighed, her hands cupping his as the blood steadily seeped from his side. "Did you get shot?"

"Y-Yeah. Fuck, it hurts." Jackson cried, gripping tightly onto his skin in an attempt to cease the bleeding.

"I need you to listen to me Jackson, okay? I need you to calm down. I need you to clear your head. The more you panic, the more blood you'll lose." Michelle calmly explained, flicking on the lights as she lifted him from the ground, half-carrying him over to the dining room table as he collapsed onto the chair, inhaling deeply.

Jackson slung his neck over the back of the chair, squeezing his eyes shut as he desperately attempted to rid his mind of the pain.

Michelle gathered her medical supplies, spreading them out on the table as she cut open Jackson's shirt, revealing the gaping hole in his side.

Jackson's breaths came out in short pants, his fingers roughly rubbing against the skin of his forehead as he tried to focus on his breathing.

"Open your eyes, Jackson. I'm going to teach you how to do this." Michelle ordered.

"W-What?" He panted, brown eyes wild as he glanced downward at the bleeding wound.

"If you're going to be getting into this type of—business—you need to learn how to stitch yourself up if need be. Understood?"

Jackson whined, nodding slowly as Michelle removed two pairs of latex gloves from the table.

"Put these on." She said.

Jackson obliged, shakily placing the cream colored latex gloves over his hands as Michelle did the same.

"We need to get the bullet out."

A strangled cry escaped his lips when her index finger and thumb positioned themselves around the wound, stretching the skin slightly to see inside as he writhed in pain.

"Fuck." He groaned, struggling to stay put under Michelle's touch as she took a pair of sterilized tweezers between her fingers.

"Don't move." She snipped, the cool metal of the tweezers suddenly puncturing his wound as she gently dug for the bullet.

White hot pain seered through his head, nearly blinding him as Michelle promptly retrieved the bullet and discarded it onto the table.

"Done. Now, I need you to do this part, okay?"

Jackson took his quivering lip between his teeth, nodding silently as she handed him several antiseptic wipes.

"Clean the wound." Michelle instructed.

His severely shaking hands traveled downwards towards his bare skin, a hiss escaping his scarred lips as he thoroughly cleaned the hole in his side.

Michelle kneeled beside him, eyeing his every move intently as she began to thread a needle.

"Am I going to stitch myself?" He panted, his breath hitching in his throat when she merely nodded.

A hiss escaped his lips as she carefully instructed him on how to do so, his severely trembling hands gliding through the skin as he sloppily closed the wound on his side.

"O-Okay, I think it's closed." He stammered. Michelle nodded, covering the wound with a familiar white bandage as she kneeled before him, her hand darting upwards to cup his cheek.

"Oh, Jackson. What am I going to do with you?"

Two weeks later, Jackson found himself seated on an old plush mahogany sofa, a lit cigarette hanging limply against his bottom lip as his hands sat folded in his lap.

Ryder sat opposite the boy, his ass planted firmly in a ripped leather chair as he took a long drag from his cigarette.

"Did you take care of the fucker who shot you?" He asked.

Jackson giggled, circling his lips around the cigarette as he, too, took a long drag. His eyes fluttered closed as he envisioned the scene from yesterday, where he'd tracked down the bitch that shot him and slit both of his wrists.

"I think I've found my calling." The boy replied, ripping the cig from his lips as he scooted forward on the scratchy material, his elbows resting on his knees as he balanced the cigarette between his fingers.

"Oh? And what's that?" Ryder smiled, admiring the young boy that sat across from him.

Jackson's lips curled into a sinister grin.

" _Killing_."

Ryder raised an eyebrow, as if to urge Jackson to elaborate.

"I'm not sure what it is, but when I take someones life, this feeling of euphoria overcomes me. My toes get all tingly and it's almost orgasmic."

Ryder nodded, twirling his cigarette between his dirt-stained fingers as Jackson continued to ramble on.

"I like blood. I like the way it feels in my hands. I'd play in it all day, if I could."

"You know what, J? You're a fucked up little dude." Ryder chuckled, stomping the butt end of his cigarette out on a nearby cluttered table as he let out a sigh. "You're wicked smart, though. You're good with knives."

"I _like_ knives." Jackson grinned. "Guns are too _quick_. The best part about the kill are all the little emotions..."

"Ever think about using an alias? Something other than 'J'?"

The boy raised a brow, bringing the cigarette to his lips against as he inhaled deeply.

"There _is_ one name I've been considering."

* * *

Two years had passed since Jackson's life had changed forever.

He'd become distant with Michelle, almost cold. He was hardly ever home, and when he was, he was always muttering to himself about some guy he wanted to chop into little pieces.

The knife collection expanded. His dresser was almost completely covered with them, all organized by shape and color as he lined them neatly in rows along the wood.

His voice began to change as well, Michelle had noticed. It wasn't the typical husky voice that she'd known. Instead, it was higher-pitched in tone, his tongue clicking with certain words as he licked his scars more profusively.

Michelle Napier stood in Jackson's vacant bathroom, scrubbing the hard water stains off of the bottom of his shower as she let out an exhausted sigh.

She was really beginning to miss her baby boy being around.

The middle-aged woman slowly stood from the ground, the bones in her back creaking as she stretched her limbs. As she turned around to toss the used paper towels into the nearby trash, three circular containers next to the sink caught her eye.

She slowly approached the counter, her cramped hands darting outward to capture one of the containers, bringing it to her face as she read the label: _Ben Nye Clown White._

Michelle raised an eyebrow, twisting the cap from the base as she peered inside, running her pointer finger along the substance as her features contorted into that of confusion.

 _Greasepaint?_

She quickly screwed the cap back on, returning the container to its original spot before reading the labels on the other two. One container held black paint, while the other contained red.

"Uh, _Ma_?" A clowny voice questioned.

Michelle jumped slightly, her palm clutching onto her chest over her heart as she spun on her heel to face the door.

Jackson stood in the doorway, his shoulders hunched as a purple sweater clung to his torso. She recognized it immediately. It was the sweater she'd given him for his nineteenth birthday.

 _He loved the color purple._

"I was just cleaning the bathroom." She sputtered, her eyes suddenly coming into contact with the dried blood on his right hand. "Are you hurt?"

"No."

Michelle shifted her weight from each foot, wiping her hands on her jeans before weakly smiling.

"I should go make dinner."

Jackson casually stepped aside, waving his arm outward as if to lead her from the room.

Just as she was about to leave, she froze in the doorway, mere inches from the boy as her bottom lip quivered at his stone cold expression.

"I miss you, Jackson." She whispered.

His features immediately softened, his lips parting to allow a deep exhale to escape as he fidgeted in place.

"I- _uh_ , miss you _too_ , Ma."

 _There it was. That fucking voice._

"Why do you sound like that?" She asked in passing, but never got a reply as she exited the room.

She stood at the stove several minutes later, tossing the diced potatoes into the boiling pot when a hand suddenly clamped down on her mouth.

Michelle's heart lept into her throat when the unfamiliar feeling of a cold blade came into contact with the skin of her jaw, her hands beginning to shake as Jackson's chin rest on her left shoulder.

"Yah _know_ ," He mused, smacking his lips together as he swayed in place behind her. " _It_ would be so _easy_ for me to _kill_ you. I can't be- _lieve_ you trus- _t_ me."

Michelle's heart hammered in her chest as her worst fears had finally come true: It was her fault he was this way. She should've stopped him from spiraling out of control when she could...

"Please don't." She whispered against his palm.

A haunting giggle slipped from his scarred lips, his hand traveling downward as he laced his long fingers around her neck.

"I saved your life." She croaked through a fit of tears.

"And _look_ at wha- _t_ I've _become_. Tell me, _Ma_. Are you _proud_ of me?" Jackson enunciated each letter in the word " _proud_ ", the knife pressing further into her jaw as she trembled beneath him.

"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, baby." Michelle whispered. "I will always be proud of you. I love you. I will always support you, no matter what you decide to do with your life."

Jackson's tongue darted outward to caress his scars, his chin digging further into Michelle's boney shoulder as he slowly lowered the knife.

"Uh, _really_?"

"Really." Michelle assured him, twisting her neck to look him in the eyes as his face sat inches from hers, still perched upon her shoulder.

"You will always be my son, Jackson Napier."

The boy pried himself from her frail frame, the sound of his blade clicking back into place filling the stale air as she exhaled deeply.

"Good to- _ah, know_." He grumbled, running a hand through his greasy curls before digging into his pocket to retrieve a mess of cards, tossing them onto the dining room table and disappearing from view.

Michelle struggled to steady her heartbeat, her wobbling legs trudging towards the table to see what he'd discarded onto it.

Michelle's fingers grazed over the playing cards, the breath hitching in her throat when her eyes scanned over the two dozen Joker cards that littered the surface.


	13. XIII

"Sometimes people surprise us. People we believe we know."

—Joyce Carol Oates

* * *

Ember sat perched up on the bathroom sink, chapped lips held open as her jaw lay ajar.

Joker stood between her legs, his palms planted firmly on the counter as he searched her features for any type of reaction.

"Ember- _ah_?" He breathed, his white, paint-stained thumb darting upwards to caress her jaw.

She instinctively flinched, her heart thudding painfully in her chest as her eyes studied his face.

The man standing between her legs was undoubtedly Jackson... the very boy she spent ten extraordinary years with. Her first _kiss_ , her first _love_ , the boy that took her _virginity_...

 _She fucked the Joker before he was the Joker._

She openly scoffed at the thought, slightly repulsed by the situation at hand as she pressed her palms firmly against his chest, silently begging him to back away.

"Can ya- _uh_ , _say_ somethin', doll?" Joker's voice wavered, his feet shuffling backwards to allow her off of the counter.

"I'm going to be sick." She revealed, falling to her knees before the toilet as she hurriedly lifted the lid, emptying the contents of her stomach into the bowl as Joker grimaced.

He slowly approached her, sinking to his knees to become level with her tiny, hunched frame as his hand came into contact with her back, rubbing circles against the skin as if to soothe her.

"Get the fuck off of me!" She exploded, snapping her arm backwards to shove his away.

Joker's brows raised at her abrupt actions, a pang of hurt coursing through him as he rose to his feet.

"Fine- _ah_. I dunno why you're being such a _bitch_." He seethed, muttering incoherently under his breath as he exited the bathroom.

Ember lifted her neck slightly, observing his every move as he eyed Bleaker's limp, bloody body on her bed.

" _Fuck_." He loudly groaned, disappearing from view as he presumably opened the bedroom door, completely forgetting the fact that he no longer wore his trademark makeup.

"Horton!" Joker shouted, lounging against the doorframe as he tightly crossed his arms.

Horton's pudgy frame came into view moments later, the air escaping his lungs the moment he settled upon Joker's face.

 _He didn't have his makeup on._

"Y-Yes, sir?" He stammered, slightly taken aback by how fucking attractive the Joker actually was.

 _And he thought that he was hot with the makeup, but this was an entirely different ball game._

"I nee- _d_ you to dis- _pose_ of a body, _bud_." Joker lowly grumbled, an eyebrow raising at Horton's dumbfounded expression. "Don't- _uh_ , get _used_ to this, pal. You're _lucky_ I don't kill yah for seein' me like _this_."

Horton's hands began to shake as he realized the inevitable: The boss had finally killed Ember.

"Absolutely, s-sir. I appreciate you sparing my life, boss." Horton stuttered, filing into the room as his shoulder brushed slightly against Joker's, butterflies filling his belly at the contact.

Horton's jaw immediately dropped when he saw Bleaker's bloody body on the bed.

"Oh shit." He gasped, approaching the dead henchman as his stomach twisted into painful knots. Whatever happened, Bleaker surely had it coming.

"The little pervert trie- _d_ to assault Miss _Ember_." Joker dryly explained. "You know what to _do_."

"Of course, boss." Horton shook, gathering Bleaker's heavy body in his arms as he swiftly carried him from the room. Joker let out an amused cackle when Horton accidentally slammed Bleaker's head against the doorframe on the way out.

Joker returned to the bathroom, Ember still slung over the toilet bowl as her bloodshot eyes met his.

 _Was she crying?_

"Go away." She croaked, propelling herself from the toilet as she shuffled backwards against the wall, slouching against the wall as her chest painfully heaved.

Joker's gaze darkened, his feet carrying him towards the broken girl as he closed the toilet lid and planted himself on top of it. Ember watched as he leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees as his chocolate brown gaze met hers.

"It's just _me_ , doll." He cooed, his pink tongue darting outward to trace the scar that lined his bottom lip.

Ember studied the features of his face. Underneath those ghastly scars, sat the face that she'd see her in dreams... The face that she'd smother with kisses... The face that she used to love.

That very face was mutilated. Destroyed. Despite the sheer attractiveness of his features, Ember found him absolutely hideous. Whether it be because of who he is, or what he's done, she wasn't quite sure. Regardless of the fact, the man sitting before her was not her Jackson, regardless of the paper plane necklace that clung to his neck.

Her Jackson was good as dead.

"No, it's not." She countered, pulling her knees to her chest as she wrapped her arms around her shaking legs. "I don't know who you are. You're a monster. A _freak_."

Joker's expression hardened, his forehead creasing in annoyance as he stood from the toilet, a strand of profanities leaving his lips as his hands ran through his flourescent hair.

"What- _ever_." He scoffed, slamming the door shut on his heel as Ember lay defeated against the wall.

 _What the fuck had happened to him over the past fifteen years?_

* * *

Joker gave Ember a bit of space following their slightly awkward encounter.

Although she was thankful that he'd saved her from Bleaker's grubby, prying hands, she couldn't help but have nightmares everytime she closed her damn eyes. Those nightmares centered mainly around Joker, or Jackson, whoever the fuck he was, sinking his knife repeatedly into her chest. However, in her dream, she just didn't seem to die.

Horton had wobbled into her room early in the morning, handing her a steaming mug of coffee and several donuts from the gas station up the street.

"Hey, uh, Horton?" She stammered, shuffling into a sitting position in the bed as she brought the mug to her lips.

The blonde boy froze in the doorway, turning slightly on his heel to face her again.

"Yeah?"

"How's Joker?" Ember wondered, her heart hammering in her chest at the mention of his name.

"Uh, I don't know. He hasn't come out of his room since I disposed of Bleaker's body."

Ember nodded, taking another small sip of her coffee before Horton excused himself from the room, closing the door on his heel as he isolated her once more.

Her eyes scanned the room, breathing in the intoxicating scent of the coffee as her gaze settled upon the E. E. Cummings poem etched onto the wall in red lipstick.

 _I carry your heart. I carry it in my heart._

Fifteen years ago, Joker, then known as Jackson, had sat beside her on the park bench down the road from the orphanage. The gold paint was chipping off, sometimes sticking to their clothes when they stood up after a reading.

She could still remember the way his breaths became jagged and uneven, how his gaze searched hers for a reaction immediately after he'd spoken those four words she'd never forget: I love you, Em.

Ember had kissed him in response. Her fingers darted upwards to claim her slightly chapped lips, her breath hitching in her throat when she could properly imagine the way his lips felt against hers. Their kisses were electrifying... they'd ignited her senses and drove her absolutely wild.

Those lips she kissed weren't the same. They're tainted. His bottom lip holds a deep gash, splitting into two, resembling the shape of a wishbone as it hugged the lip. The scars...

"Fuck!" The word slipped from her mouth loudly, her hands quickly discarding the coffee cup onto the bedside table as she climbed from the bed.

She needed to see him.

Ember dug through the black gym bags on the floor, retrieving a new outfit for the day before quickly shuffling into the clothing and rushing towards the door.

She swung it open, hurriedly exiting the room without looking in front of her, and ended up running into something tall and hard.

" _Whoops_." A clowny voice called, her hands beginning to shake as they held firmly onto the purple collar of his coat.

Ember's neck craned slightly, her gaze settling upon the painted face man who stood dangerously close to her.

Joker's lips curled into a sinister grin, his scars stretching up his face as his eyes scanned her face.

Her breath hitched in her throat when she'd realized how close their lips were. She studied the deep crevices of his scars, masked by bright red paint as they tugged even further up his face, his grin growing.

"Like what ya- _uh_ , _see_ , darlin?" He taunted, his paint-stained fingers darting upwards to claim her jaw.

She allowed the innocent gesture, stiffening under his touch as his thumb grazed her chin.

"Yah _know_ ," He softly began, his eyes settling upon her chapped lips as his breaths became jagged. "You're jus- _t_ as- _uh_ , _beautiful_ now as you were then."

Ember's jaw dropped at his confession, her head swimming as she practically melted under his touch.

 _Stop it, Em. This isn't Jackson. He's the Joker._

She pulled away from his touch, backing up against the nearby wall as her hand claimed her jaw, the feeling of his caloused fingers still lingering as she avoided his stare.

"Thanks." She murmured, staring at the black high-top converse that covered his feet as he swayed awkwardly in place.

"D'you wan- _t_ to go _out_?" He inquired, a brow raising as he toyed with hem of his theatrical overcoat.

Ember stilled.

"Like, on a date?" She practically scoffed.

Joker would be lying if he said that Ember's reaction to his question didn't sting a bit.

" _No_ ," He drawled, his tongue darting outward to trace his scars. "Ou- _t_ of the house. You've- _uh_ , been _couped up_ in here for a- _while_ , figured you'd enjoy some fresh air."

Ember's features immediately brightened, the thought of finally being able to go outside again made her rather giddy.

"Really?" She gleamed. "Where are we going?"

That sinister grin returned, his hand running through his green curls as a hearty chuckle escaped his lips.

"You'll see, cup- _cake_. You- _uh_ , all ready to _go_?"

Ember silently nodded, a squeal escaping her lips as she started towards the door.

"I've been so fucking bored, it'll be nice to get out of this house!" She exclaimed, clapping her hands together in glee as Joker followed closely behind her.

"No- _uh_ , _funny_ business, go- _t_ it?" He lightly scolded, leading her out of the front door as she squinted from the harsh light of the sun.

"Got it." Ember whispered, skipping over the cracks in the pavement as she made her way to the black van that sat parked by a thirty-foot oak tree.

Horton leaned up against the vehicle, picking aimlessly at his nails as he readjusted the collar of his red polo.

"Ready to go, boss?" He gloated, straightening up as he slid open the side door.

"Uh- _huh_." Joker mumbled, hoisting himself into the van as he collapsed against the bench.

Ember hesitated slightly before climbing in after him, her gaze settling upon Horton as he questioningly raised a brow.

"You guys aren't going to murder me and dump my body, are you?" She half-jokingly wondered.

"I guess we'll see." Horton countered, his thin lips pulling into a smirk as her blood ran cold.

"Qui- _t_ it, Horton." Joker called, motioning for Ember to climb on in with a wave of his hand.

With shaking hands, she climbed into the van, taking a seat on the bright green floor against the back doors, the very same spot she sat when she was taken to Joker's hideout against her will.

"I don't _bite_." He dryly joked, resting his elbows on his knees as he tapped the heel of his shoe against the ground.

"I'm fine here." Ember assured him, pressing her back further against the cool metal of the door as Horton ignited the engine.

The trio sat in silence for several minutes, the van bumping along an uneven road as Ember inspected her fingers, desperately trying to avoid Joker at all costs. She could feel his eyes on her, but she chose not to acknowledge him.

"How'd it happen?" She finally whispered, not bothering to look at him.

Joker shifted in his seat, outstretching his long, slender legs as his arm draped across the back of the bench.

"How'd _what_ , happen, toots? You'll have to be more _spe-ci-fic_." Joker taunted, his tongue lapping out to wet his lips as he smacked them loudly.

Ember's dark gaze met his as she studied his odd facial ticks.

 _He was always licking those damn scars._

"How'd you get the scars?"

" _Ahh_." Joker hummed, rising from his seat as he sunk to the floor, crawling on all fours to meet a standoff-ish Ember in the corner.

The sound of a blade clicking into place made her stomach churn, his body meeting hers as he hastily sat on her knees. Ember raised an eyebrow at his peculiar actions, watching him closely as he leaned forward, his painted forehead grazing hers as his left thumb traced her bottom lip.

She whimpered beneath him, growing more uncomfortable by the minute as Joker's left hand firmly cupped her jaw, his thumb pressly harshly against her bottom lip as the blade in his opposite hand grazed her jaw.

" _So_ ," He nasally sang, his nose brushing against hers as she squirmed beneath him, her knees beginning to grow numb from his weight. "You want to know how I got these scars, _hmm_?"

"Y-You don't have to tell me." She squeaked, her voice somewhat muffled by his thumb as he traced circles against the skin.

" _Fuck_ ," He breathed, his black holes for eyes studying her swollen lips. "So _soft_."

 _Did he want to kiss her?_

He broke his stare, shaking his head vigorously as he pressed the blade further against her jaw.

"I had a _girlfriend_ ," He began, pausing to lick his lips as Ember trembled beneath him. "She was very _pretty_ , like _you_."

She winced beneath him, desperately attempting to move her legs as they began to lose all feeling entirely.

"C-Can you get off my legs, please? I can't feel them." She begged.

Joker raised a painted brow, shuffling off of her knees without a word as she pulled them to her chest. He repositioned himself, relaxing onto his knees as he pressed his torso against her skinny legs.

" _Anyways_ ," He growled.

"I was _wild_ about her, you see. I could hardly con- _tain_ myself around her."

An unsettling feeling began to brew in Ember's belly at his words. She knew quite well that he'd told several stories about his infamous scars, but she couldn't help but think that this one could actually be true.

"One day, she tells me she's _pregnant_." Joker spat, his thumb still pressed firmly against Ember's lip.

"Her father was a _drinker_ , and a fucking _fiend_. He wasn't very puh- _leased_ to hear that I'd _knocked up_ his precious lit- _tle_ angel." Joker's gaze shifted as he rolled his eyes, a sarcastic chuckle falling from his lips as he licked them once more.

" _Noble_ as I am, I defend her. I sacrificed myself to ensure the- _uh, safety_ of my girl and my _baby_." He continues, sliding the tip of the blade along her prominent jawline as he traced it amusingly.

"The fucker bea- _t_ the living _shit_ out of me, Em. And guess _what_?"

"What?" Ember squeaked.

"I fucking _let_ him." Joker seethed, trembling with rage as he instinctively dug the knife into her skin, drawing a thin sliver of blood as she yelped.

"Oh- _uh_ , _sorry_." He murmured, prying the knife from her jaw as he wiped the blood from her skin with his thumb, absolutely mesmerized by the sight.

"As it turns _out_ ," He continued, the switchblade tumbling to the floor as he gently caressed her lightly bleeding cheek. "The little _shit_ wasn't even _mine_."

Ember's heart stopped. If it was even possible, she actually felt bad for the fucking Joker.

"So it was for nothing?" Ember whispered, somewhat enjoying the feeling of his gentle hands on her face.

" _Bingo_." He snickered.

Ember watched as he rose to his feet, snatching the switchblade from the ground as he clicked the blade back into place with his thumb, which was now stained by the blood from her jaw.

"How did you survive?" She wondered.

Joker sighed, returning to his seat on the bench as he went lax, his eyes fluttering closed as Michelle's face bombarded his mind.

"I'm the fucking Joker, _doll_. Is that even a _question?"_

 _He'd be dead if it weren't for Michelle Napier._

It's been eight years since he's seen that woman. Eight years since he's heard her voice. For all he knows, she could be dead. If she wasn't, she surely would never want to see him again, especially after seeing everything he's done on the news.

Three days following his twenty-second birthday, he left the comfort of her home without warning. It was bad for her health to see him like that. She'd stay up all hours of the night waiting... waiting for him to come home... waiting to see if he lived or died.

"Have you worn the necklace everyday?" Ember added.

Joker stilled at her words, suddenly becoming very aware of the metal chain tucked underneath his dress shirt.

"Every- _day_." He breathed.

"They- _uh_ , _tried_ to make me take it _off_ at Arkham. I _fought_ it so hard that they eventually gave _up_."

Ember let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding in.

"I even wore it in mine and Noah's wedding." She admitted.

A snort vibrated through Joker's nose, a broad smile plastered on his face as him and Ember both heartily chuckled.

" _God_ ," He began.

"We're both pretty fucked _up_."

"We're here, boss." Horton announced from the front seat.

Joker awkwardly cleared his throat, adjusting his tie as his tongue routinely darted outward from his mouth.

Ember's heartbeat quickened when she felt the van go into park, her eyes studying Joker as he shifted in his seat.

The side door swung forcefully open, shifting the van slightly as Joker climbed from the vehicle.

Ember shakily followed, grabbing onto his outstretched hand as he helped her down. It was a simple gesture, but it further proved that Joker was simply human.

Her brows raised when she took in the appearance of the building before her. Dark, dingy, and disheveled, the windows tightly boarded up as Joker placed a hand on her lower back, leading her up to the door.

"Where are we?" She wondered.

"I'd like you to meet an old fri- _end_ of mine, Em."

* * *

 **A/N** : I'm honestly having an absolute blast writing this story. I adore Ember and Jackson and I'm so pleased to see that you guys do too! This is honestly one of my absolute favorite stories I've ever written, and I'm so glad I took the leap of faith and decided to go through with it.

Be sure to leave behind a fave /or a review to let me know what you think.. xo


	14. XIV

"If I have to have a past, then I prefer it to be multiple choice."

—Alan Moore

* * *

"Holy shit, J? Is that you?"

"In the _flesh_. How've ya- _uh, been_ , Ryder?" Joker grinned, his hand resting on the dip of Ember's back as she gawked at the man before them.

Ryder, as Joker called him, was freakishly tall, easily over six and a half feet. Half of his face was covered by a deep scar, tracing from his jaw to the top of his brow. His black, beady eyes met a tiny, shivering Ember.

"And who do we have here?" Ryder mused, sucking on his bottom lip as he stepped aside, allowing the three of them access into the building.

" _This_ ," Joker heartily began, putting a slight bit of pressure on the small of her back, silently urging her to shuffle into the house. "Is Ember. An old _friend_ of mi- _ne_." His scars broadened as he emphasized the " _n_ ".

"Drop dea- _d_ _gorgeous_ , ain't she?" Joker grinned, stealing a glance at a very silent Ember as they followed Ryder inside.

"She's very pretty, J." Ryder modestly spoke, careful not to cross any boundaries with the clown. Although Ryder'd taught Joker nearly everything he knew, the man couldn't help but be slightly afraid of the painted-faced man. His strength and stamina was absolutely impeccable.

She wasn't quite sure what to expect to see inside the dingy building. What she did see, however, was quite shocking.

It was a very open floor plan, almost resembling an old, deteriorated warehouse. The ceiling was multistory, with flickering lights and open pipes held up by metal bars.

"Ry- _der_ ," Joker began, his tongue routinely tracing the deep indents of his scars. "I wan- _t_ to _teach_ Miss Em- _ber_ how to shoot a gun."

The mans expression brightened as Ember stilled beside them.

"What?" She stammered.

 _Why would she need to know how to shoot a gun?_

"Be my guest, J. The range is all yours."

"Grea- _t_." Joker mumbled, his caloused fingers twisting around Ember's frail bicep as he tugged her in the direction of the indoor range.

Horton stayed behind, following Ryder to an undisclosed location as Ember suddenly felt quite ill.

Truth be told, she'd always been afraid of guns. Whether it be the loud noise or the fact that they kill people, she wasn't quite sure what scared her the most about them.

"Why do I need to learn how to shoot a gun?" She squeaked, tripping over the toe of her sneaker as Joker clamped down on her arm, preventing her from face planting.

"Be- _cause_ , toots," He heavily sighed, dragging her towards the gianormous indoor range, accompanied by an abundance of moving and still targets. "D'yah really want to ro- _t_ away in tha- _t_ room for the rest of your _days_?"

"Why don't you just let me go home? I won't rat you out. I won't say a thing, I promise." Ember pleaded.

Joker positioned her behind a wilting wooden counter, littered with different guns of all shapes and sizes. Her eyes widened at the sight, a sharp breath hitching in her throat as her hands violently shook.

" _Funny_." He grumbled, his voice low and husky as his paint-stained fingers glided over the guns. Short " _tsks_ " erupted from his scarred lips as he wondered which one she should shoot first.

His gaze lingered over a .40 caliber, a sigh emerging from him as he claimed the gun in his grasp, cocking back the slide to ensure that no stray bullets sat in the chamber. When he was absolutely sure that it was completely empty, Joker claimed the discarded magazine and began to load it with bullets.

"Joker—" Ember stammered.

"Shu- _t it._ " Joker hissed, inserting the filled magazine into the handle of the gun as he clicked it into place. Ember observed his actions, engrossed with how smoothly he prepared the gun, as if it were simply routine at this point.

Joker cocked the slide back again, a satisfied grunt coming from him as he motioned the woman over with his index finger.

"She's all- _uh, ready_ for yah, toots." A menacing grin crept onto his painted lips as Ember shuffled towards him.

"J-Joker, I'm scared." She confessed. His grin grew at her words, his arm snaking around her waist as he pulled her closer.

Ember toppled into his frame, a gasp escaping her lips as she shivered beneath his touch. He'd positioned himself directly behind her, his front pressed firmly against her back as his chin came into contact with the pertruding bone of her shoulder.

 _They fit together like fucking puzzle pieces._

Ember went lax under his touch, her heart hammering violently against her ribcage as he lounged against her back. She watched with wide eyes as his arms wrapped around her tiny frame, holding the loaded gun directly in front of her as he placed it into her open palm.

"Just- _uh, listen_ to me, okay?" He whispered, his breath fanning against her right ear as a shiver ran down her spine.

"Okay." She breathed.

"Be _careful_ , it's load- _ed_." Joker added, wordlessly lacing her fingers around the pistol as he instructed her on how to properly hold it.

Ember's fingers physically buzzed at the feeling of his against them. She struggled to breathe properly as he cradled her in his arms, his chin digging into the skin of her shoulder as he instructed her to outstretch her arms.

"I'm go- _ing_ to be right here the entire time, go _-t it_?" Joker cooed, his tone soft and reassuring as she shakily held out her arms, the foreign feeling of the gun in her hands caused her anxiety to spike to a rather dangerous level.

"F-Fuck," Ember stuttered.

"I don't think I can do it."

"You _can_." Joker pressed. "Hold your arms _out_ , bu- _t_ keep them _relaxed_. If you're too stiff, you'll fuck up- _ah_ , your _arms_."

Ember nodded, the feeling of Joker's stray curls brushing up against her cheek drove her senses wild.

His hands traveled down her arms as she straightened them, pointing the gun towards a target in the shape of a body. She watched closely as his fingers grazed her skin, inching agonizingly slow down her arms and towards her body. Finally, they froze in place underneath her biceps, his palms cupping the loose skin underneath as she let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Slow- _ly_ _hover_ over the _trigger_." Joker hummed, his heart hammering in his chest as Ember stood pressed against him.

 _Hopefully she couldn't feel how fast his heart was beating..._

Ember's index finger hovered over the trigger, her breaths becoming short and jagged as his thumbs traced circles against the skin of her biceps.

His foot suddenly tapped against the inside of hers several times, a grunt echoing in her ear as her brows raised.

"What?" She whispered.

" _Spread_ your _legs_." Joker said.

Ember gulped, her feet slowly spreading apart as she steadied once again against his torso.

"Whenever you're _ready_ , doll."

Ember nodded, trying to focus her mind on the pistol in her hands, versus the man who stood pressed against her, his face resting on her shoulder as he patiently waited.

Several silent moments passed, her finger toying with the trigger as she contemplated when to actually shoot for the first time.

Joker remained silent, careful not to pressure her as he contently stood behind her, engulfing the woman in his arms as she trembled beneath him.

 _Any day..._

Finally, Ember pressed firmly against the trigger. Several things happened at once: A yelp escaped her lips at the sound, her ears ringing loudly. The slight kick from the gun surprised her, causing her to hop backwards in shock, her arm yanking upwards as Joker promptly caught it with his hand, tugging it downward swiftly as the gun remained pointed down range.

He tightened his hold on her, his right hand still tightly grasping her arm to ensure that the gun stay pointed down range. His left arm, however, had somehow laced itself around her torso, his fingers rubbing circles against the fabric of her shirt as he whispered reassuring words into her ringing ears.

"You did _great_ , swee- _t_ pea." Joker whispered, his lips curled into a genuine grin as he pried the gun from her palm, placing it softly onto the counter once again as she lay enveloped in his arms.

"S-Sorry," Ember rasped, her hands claiming his arm around her stomach as she squeezed the clothed material roughly. "It was loud and my arms just involuntarily flung back—"

" _Em_ ," Joker pressed, his arm retracting from her torso as he pried himself from her shaking frame. "It's _okay_. You di- _d good_."

Ember's eyes followed him, a strand of incoherent phrases leaving his lips at a low volume as he lightly shoved her aside, taking the gun apart.

"Tell me why I need to learn again?" She lowly inquired, her arms wrapped tightly across her chest as Joker lounged against the table, his palms planted firmly against the wood as he hunched his broad shoulders.

"It might- _uh_ , come in _handy_ , 'specially if you're on the _run_ with _me_."

 _On the run with him._

"So now you expect that I'm just going to follow you around like a lost puppy?" She raised a brow.

Joker craned his neck, his black gaze meeting hers as he smacked his lips.

"Yah don't have much of a _choice_ , darling."

"You're different." Ember whimpered, avoiding his piercing gaze as he twisted on his heel, resting his lower back against the wood.

"Differ- _ent_ how?" He enunciated.

"You're not the same shy little Jackson."

The air stilled at her words. Neither of them seemed to breathe at the mention of his real name.

" _Uh_ ," Joker murmured. "Lot'sa _shit_ has happened."

"I can see that." Ember stifled a giggle, even though it wasn't remotely funny. Whatever happened to Jackson really fucked him up beyond comprehension. "Can you tell me?" She added.

Joker stiffened, his fingers darting upwards to graze his jaw as his mouth lay agape.

"May- _be_."

"Want to- _uh_ , learn how to use a _knife_?"

* * *

 _Short but sweet! A little character development between Joker Ember. Also, sorry about such a late update as well, I wanted to post before I went to bed since I work all day tomorrow._

 _I'm so excited for you guys to keep reading x_


	15. XV

**A/N - PLEASE READ** : Hello, loves! I just wanted to leave a quick note and thank you SO much for the amazing reviews! I appreciate your input (both negative positive!) SO much! The reason some page breaks may be missing is due to the fact that I am currently cross-posting from Wattpad. I finished "Paper Planes" back in October on that app and I decided recently to post it onto here in order to share Ember Joker's story with a broader audience! However, due to the fact that I'm having to copy paste each individual chapter, the formatting gets messed up and it deletes my page breaks, as well as the italics in Joker's dialogue. Therefore, I have to go through and re-add these, so it's possible that I've skipped over several by accident. I will try to be more careful in my future chapters so that you can have a smooth, enjoyable reading experience! Once again, thank you for your kind reviews! xox

 _"One day you fall for this boy. And he touches you with his fingers. And he burns holes in your skin with his mouth. And it hurts when you look at him. And it hurts when you don't. And it feels like someone's cut you open with a jagged piece of glass."_

—Maureen Medved

* * *

Ember stirred awake, a severe discomfort in her lower stomach as she writhed in pain between the sheets.

 _That wonderful time of the month._

The woman shuffled from the bed, her knees buckling as a groan slipped from her lips. She practically crawled on all fours towards the heaps of black material in the corner of the room, filled with her articles of clothing.

Her slender fingers dug through the clothing in search of any type of feminine product. However, she found none.

 _Fuck._

She shuffled into the bathroom, stuffing an obscene amount of toilet paper into her panties to prevent any leakage.

 _This'll have to do for now._

"Joker?" She throatily called, slinking from the room as she put pressure on her abdomen with the palms of her hands.

Ember migrated through the untidy home, her eyes settling upon a brand new flatscreen television that sat perched up on old textbooks adjacent to the wall in the living room.

"Joker?" She repeated, a bit more loudly this time.

"In here, pump- _kin_!" A clowny voice echoed from the kitchen.

Ember stumbled into the room, her hands clutched against her lower stomach as Joker stood behind the island counter, his lanky fingers laced around a coffee mug as he raised a brow at her posture.

"You- _uh_ , _alright_ , toots?"

Ember collapsed on a nearby wooden stool, a moan of pain slipping from her as she leaned into the counter.

"Are you wearing a t-shirt?" She asked, slightly taken aback by his choice of apparel.

Joker glanced downward, his black holes for eyes taking in the sight of his v-neck black shirt. A silver paper plane sat neatly on top of the material, the chain draped over his neck as he merely shrugged.

"Uh, _yeah_?"

" _Hmph_ ," Ember grunted, her gaze lingering on the paper plane around his neck, her fingers darting upwards to claim the one around hers. "Just weird to see you in anything but purple."

Horton cleared his throat from the corner of the room, his knees held to his chest as his nose sat stuffed in his withered copy of Wuthering Heights.

Ember glanced in his direction, an eyebrow raised as the sudden smell of smoke filled her lungs.

Joker still stood planted firmly on the opposite side of the counter, a lit cigarette held tightly between his red lips as he shoved a bright green lighter back into his black jean pocket.

 _Jeans too?_

"I didn't know you could dress so... _casual_." Ember snickered, her expression contorting into that of pain when an unbearable cramp erupted in her stomach.

"You _okay_ , toots?" Joker raised an eyebrow, his voice muffled by the cigarette between his lips as he took a long drag, his palms planted on the counter.

"Uh, not really. I'm—uh— _bleeding_." Ember murmured.

Underneath all the black paint, Ember could clearly see the man raise his brows higher from her response. His thumb and index finger met his lips, tearing the cigarette from them as he snickered.

"You- _uh_ , need a band- _aide_?" He teased, knowing quite well that she wasn't referring to a typical wound.

"No..." She trailed off, avoiding his amused glare. "I'm bleeding... _down there_."

Horton's gaze flickered upwards, curiously watching the pair of them as they awaited Joker's response.

" _Oh_ ," Joker giggled.

"You- _uh,_ want me to _plug_ it _up_?"

Ember's jaw dropped at his statement. Horton shifted uncomfortably in the corner, pressing the book further into his face to hide his expression.

"Tampons are fine, thanks." Ember mumbled, avoiding his gaze as he let out an amused chuckle.

" _Horton_ ," Joker barked.

"Yes, boss?" The plump boy squeaked, the paperback book toppling from his grasp, landing on the tile floor with a plop.

"Go get Miss Em- _ber_ some tampons, will _yah_?"

"Yes, sir." Horton said, climbing to his feet as Joker retrieved the keys to the SUV from his pocket, tossing them to the henchman in passing as he walked out the door.

Ember pulled her legs into a fetal-position on the stool, groaning in pain as her fingers knotted in her greasy locks. The platinum blonde color was starting to grow out, revealing her dark roots.

"I- _uh, got_ somethin' that migh _-t_ help with your _cramps_." Joker stated, pressing the cigarette against the counter to extinguish the flame.

He rounded the island, a hand running through his flourescent curls as he motioned for her to follow him with a wave of his hand. She obliged, keeping a safe distance between them as he lead her around the corner and down the hallway that lead to his bedroom.

Ember hesitated outside of his open door, an uneasy feeling settling in her bones as he strode into the room, prying open the desk drawers and shuffling through them.

Her dark eyes raked up and down his figure, taken aback by his appearance. Even though he had his trademark makeup on, the fact that he wore a black cotton t-shirt and black skinny jeans that clung nicely to his hips and legs was... _weird_.

"Take a _picture_ , darlin." He hummed. "Come _inside_."

Ember's heart raced as she stepped over the threshold, entering the room where the Joker slept as he continued to mindlessly shuffle through the contents in his desk drawers.

Her eyes trailed around the room, taking in the mess of "HA"s on the walls, along with the king sized bed with a very questionable headboard. It was as if he picked out that headboard specifically for the use of handcuffs.

 _Why was she always thinking about handcuffs?_

A hand suddenly came into contact with her lower back, her heart nearly exploding in a mixture of fright and shock.

Joker's brows knit together in confusion, the skin on his forehead crinkling as the white makeup creased.

"D'yah know _how_ to roll a _blunt_?" He huskily asked, tearing his hand from her back as her breathing resumed.

 _Marijuana?_

"Yeah. It's been awhile, though." Ember sighed, taking a seat at Joker's desk as she swiped the discarded papers aside with the side of her arm, making room for her to roll. "Do you not know how to?"

Joker snickered, handing her an empty Black 'n Mild cigar paper, along with a nug of weed.

"'Course I _do_ , love. I just wan- _t_ you to _roll_ your _own_."

Joker fell to his knees beside her, clearing off an additional spot on the desk as he, too, began to roll his blunt.

"I never would've thought that the fucking _Joker_ would be a stoner." Ember said through a small fit of giggles, carefully rolling the paper with her fingertips.

"No- _t_ a stoner." He grumbled, copying her actions. "Just- _uh_ , gotta _relax_ a bit sometimes."

Ember ceased her movements as she studied his mouth. It was quite interesting, really, how he spoke so theatrically. He never used to speak this way. In fact, even at the age of fifteen, his voice was rather deep, and he could've passed for an eighteen-year-old on looks alone. Jackson always looked older than he really was.

 _Fuck, Ember. Jackson is gone._

She was rather fascinated by how he spoke. His painted, scarred lips widened when he said the letter "l" in "relax", his mouth almost forming into a smile as he clung onto the "x" at the end. Ember wasn't entirely sure why he talked the way he did, but it certainly was entriguing.

"Wha- _t_?" He snipped, his dark gaze suddenly fixated on her as he clicked his tongue at the end of the word.

Ember shook her head slightly, brows knitted together as she resumed rolling her severely creasing blunt.

"F-Fuck," she sighed. "I fucked it up."

"Here," Joker offered, his bare hands reaching out to meet hers as she froze in place. "Le- _t_ me _help_."

Ember's chest heaved as his cold, slender fingers brushed against hers, gently coaxing the paper as he soothed out the crinkles. Her fingers lay underneath his, as he practically rolled his against hers, instructing her silently on how to fix her mistakes.

 _It was wild how such a violent man could be so gentle._

"I can- _uh_ , hear your hear- _t_ beat- _ing_." Joker whispered, helping her finish the blunt as his hands stilled, still resting nicely on hers.

"That's a little demented." Ember slyly spoke, a genuine chuckle resonating through his chest as he retracted his touch, grabbing his discarded blunt and removing his lighter from his pant pocket.

"Have you _met_ me, toots? I'm _de-men-ted_ as _fuck_." He mused, placing the blunt between his red lips as he cupped his palm around the end, lighting it swiftly before passing the lighter on to Ember.

She took it with shaking hands, placing her not-so-neatly rolled blunt between her lips as she, too, lit the end of it.

Joker rotated in place, his bottom plopping onto the ground as he lounged against the cabinets of the desk, taking a large hit from the blunt as he inhaled deeply.

Ember watched him intently as she took a remarkably small hit, fearful of inhaling too much smoke and coughing in front of Joker. She didn't want to embarrass herself in front of the man she felt so conflicted around.

* * *

"C'mon, please do it!" Ember begged, her legs swinging back and forth as she lay on her stomach at the foot of Joker's bed. Her face sat in her hands as she rest her elbows on his surprisingly soft comforter.

Joker sat on the floor beneath her, his arms wrapped around his knees as he rolled his head back on his shoulders, an amused giggle escaping his Glasgow grin.

" _Fine_." He playfully grunted.

"Betty bough- _t_ some _butter_ , but the butter Betty bough- _t_ was bit- _ter_. So Betty bough- _t_ some better butter to make the bit- _ter_ but-ter better, but the bitter butter made the bet- _ter_ butter _bitter_." Joker spat as quickly as he possibly could.

Ember collapsed into a fit of laughter on the mattress, rolling onto her side as she clutched her aching stomach.

Joker's lips curled into a grin, his head still fuzzy from the weed as he crawled from his spot on the floor, leaping beside her onto the mattress as she giggled beside him.

"What's so _funny_?" He taunted lightly.

Ember blinked away several amused tears, her vision focusing on the painted-face man that sat beside her on the bed. She silently watched as his tongue routinely darted out from his mouth, curling sideways to meet the destroyed tissue on the left side of his face as the tip of his tongue traced the raised skin. Her foggy brain moved in slow motion, the visual of him simply licking his scars took what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, his tongue returned to the depths of his mouth, his lips smacking together several additional times before sealing closed once and for all.

"I- _uh, like_ when you _look_ at me that way." He openly admitted.

"What way?" Ember whispered, propping herself up on her elbow as she glared upwards at him. He sat cross-legged on the bed, his knee resting against her hip as his fingers toyed with a loose string on the blanket.

"Like I'm _human_."

"You are human." Ember said. "A pretty fucked up one, but still human."

Joker didn't reply. Instead, he shuffled himself around on the bed, positioning himself into the same stance that Ember lay in, his elbow resting against the mattress as his head lay in his palm.

Ember giggled at his mockery, his lanky body laying only a foot or so from hers as they lay in a comfortable silence.

"The pot did help soothe my cramps."

Joker smiled. "I knew it _would."_

"You should've been a doctor or a nurse." Ember teased, her expression immediately faltering when Joker's face fell.

 _Michelle._

"What is it?" She whispered, contemplating whether or not to claim his cheek in her hands. She decided against it.

"My- _uh, Mom_ is a nurse."

 _Mom?_

Ember's jaw fell ajar, unable to properly form a sentence as her brain went fuzzy once again.

"She- _uh_ , took me _in_ after my _face_ got all _fucked_." He softly explained, avoiding Ember's eyes as he focused on the loose string in the mattress. " _Saved_ my _life_."

"That's awesome, Joker." Ember smiled, her hand darting outwards to capture his.

His heart leapt into his throat at the innocent gesture, his breaths becoming shallow as she rubbed her thumb against his.

Ember pulled away suddenly, traveling up towards his neck, where his identical necklace lay limp against the mattress. She took the pendant between her manicured fingers, running her thumb along the small grooves as his heart thumped thickly in his chest.

"Did you wear it when you blew up the hospital?"

Joker gulped, ignoring the painful lump in his throat as he twisted his index finger around a loose green curl.

" _Yes_."

Ember fell silent, her fingers still caressing the silver plane as she studied it. Joker watched her attentively, somewhat enthralled by her actions.

 _God, she was beautiful._

"Noah and I weren't happy."

Joker said nothing.

"If he wouldn't have died, I honestly don't think we'd still be together." She added, her gaze traveling to meet his right arm, which sat slung over his side. She was so used to seeing it covered by his thick, purple coat, that she'd never noticed the small tattoo etched on the outside of his arm.

"What's that one?" She asked, her index finger poking the skin where the writing sat. "Old man river?"

Joker opened his mouth to answer, but was immediately silenced by a distressed Horton in the doorway.

 _They'd left the door open?_

"Boss, we have a problem."

* * *

 **A/N (again)** : Yes, I've given the Joker some of Heath's tattoos. I dunno why exactly, but it just brings the character more to life for me.

Anywho, I have another fun question for you guys!

QOTD: How old were you when The Dark Knight was released in theaters? Have you always found Ledger's Joker attractive from the start?

My answer: I was 11 when TDK was released. I didn't see it in the theater, but I watched it a few months later and I shit you not, Heath scared the living SHIT out of me. So, no, I definitely did not find him attractive back then, because I could barely look at him. However, when I got a little older, (fifteen, I think?) I watched it again and was like oh shit... the Joker is kinda hot.

And now I want to sit on his face. LOL WHOOPS


	16. XVI

_"Insanity is everyone expecting you not to fall apart when you find out everything you believed in was a lie."_

—Shannon L. Alder

* * *

Horton, Joker and Ember crowded around a limp, bloodied body of a man they all did not know.

Joker stood with his hands on his hips, sucking diligently on his bottom lip as soft tsks tumbled from his lips.

Ember quaked in her sandals, brown eyes widened at the sight of the dead man on the gravel as Horton merely sighed.

"The fucker was following me from the grocery store," he blandly explained, kicking a radiant pebble aside with the toe of his boot. "I panicked."

"Don't _apologize_ , bud." Joker lowly spoke, falling to his knees as he rummaged through the deceased individuals pockets. Finally, he retracted an old leather wallet, flipping through it with his slender fingers.

"Rod- _ney_ Earlington, thirty- _seven_." He grumbled, prying the plastic ID from the wallet as he thoroughly inspected it. "D'yah think he was _in-tent-ion-ally_ following you, Hor- _ton_?"

Horton's stomach fluttered when Joker's gaze suddenly met his. Those black holes for eyes drove him absolutely mad.

"Rather be safe than sorry, boss. I didn't want to find out. I couldn't possibly put you in danger."

Joker ascended to a standing position, shuffling towards the blonde boy as his hand clamped firmly down on his shoulder.

Horton's breath hitched in his throat at the gesture, his pulse quickening as Joker's scars tugged upwards.

"I don't- _uh, tell_ you this enough, but I really _appreciate_ you, pal."

Horton's thin lips curled into a smile, his hand impulsively rising to meet Joker's on his shoulder. His fingers grazed the mans paint-stained ones as he let out a shaky breath.

"Always a pleasure, boss."

"Love- _ly_ ," Joker sang, his scars stretching as he pulled his hand from Horton's awkward touch. "If you- _uh_ , ever _in-ter-rupt_ Ember and I again, lets just say it won't be a _pretty situation._ "

Ember's brows raised at his statement, slightly confused about what he meant when Horton nodded curtly.

"Yes, sir. So sorry."

Joker quickly scooped his fingers along the underneath of Horton's chin, smacking his lips before turning on his heel and making his way up the distressed sidewalk.

Ember and the henchman stood in silence, glancing downward at the dead man before she finally spoke.

"I'm going to go inside." She whispered, twisting in her place to head back up the sidewalk.

"Wait!" Horton chanted, prying open the door of the van as he shuffled through a plastic shopping bag. "Here's your, uh, tampons."

He tossed a box of tampons in Ember's direction. She weakly smiled as she caught them, an odd tension rising between them as she curtly nodded before skipping along the deep cracks in the concrete.

Ember found Joker in the living room, lounging against the back of the slightly torn sofa, his arms draped along each side as his gaze focused on the television.

"Nice TV." She whispered, taking her spot on the opposite end of the couch, a good distance between them as she ineptly crossed her legs, slamming her foot against the wooden coffee table in the process.

Joker observed the entire scenario, a snort coming from his nose as he refocused on the television, which displayed the Gotham news.

"Yah know what I _miss_?" He mused, his fingers lacing in his flourescent curls.

"What's that?"

"See- _ing_ my face on the _news_." He openly admitted. "Being the _talk_ of the town."

"Maybe it's best that you're laying low for a bit. Doesn't it get old, always being on the run from the cops?"

" _No_." Joker said quite frankly. "It's _exhilarating_."

They sat in silence for several moments, both fixated on the TV as a blonde woman blabbed about the decrease in registered voters.

Suddenly, Joker's expression brightened.

"I ha- _ve_ an ide- _uh_." He gloated, spinning in his spot to face Ember, who had a rather dumbfounded look plastered on her face.

"Okay?"

"Let's go on an _adventure_." He gleefully said, crossing his legs on the couch as he giggled like a little kid on Christmas morning.

"What kind of adventure?" Ember anxiously pried.

"Only the bes- _t_ kind, my love."

* * *

"You're not seriously going to make me shoot this, are you?" Ember gasped, turning the empty pistol over in her hands as she sat in the passenger seat of the SUV.

"Why do you always _ask_ so man- _y_ damn questions?" Joker grumbled, clipping the loaded magazine into his gun as he slid back the slide, putting one in the chamber before discarding the gun into the toolbox between their legs. "Give _it_."

Ember placed the gun into his outstretched clutch, a slightly disappointed expression plastered on her features as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

It was a clear night in Gotham. Not a single cloud sat in the sky, the stars fully on display as Ember rest her head against the window of the vehicle.

"You know what I love?"

"What's _that_ , swee- _t_ pea?" He wondered, igniting the engine as his gaze settled upon her slightly giddy frame.

"The stars. They're just so romantic."

" _Stars_? How can stars be _romantic_?" Joker scoffed, lacing his gloved fingers around the gear shift and he thrust it into drive.

"Picture this," Ember exclaimed, straightening in her seat as a hearty smile tugged at her mouth. "Laying down looking up at the clear, starry sky. Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac playing in the background, limbs laced together and breathless kisses."

" _Jesus_ , you're still _obsessed_ with tha- _t_ damn song?" Joker grinned, stealing a glance at a blushing Ember as the disheveled house disappeared into the distance.

"Yes. I'll love Stevie Nicks 'til the day I die."

A genuine chuckle slipped from his painted lips, his left hand resting on the top of the steering wheel as his right lay limp on his thigh. "I- _uh, remember_ when Eve- _lyn_ bought you that record for your thir- _teenth_ birthday. Tha- _t shit_ was stuck in my head for _years_."

"Anyways," Ember sighed, pulling her ripped jean-clad knees to her chest as she readjusted her seatbelt. "That's why stars are romantic. That whole scenario alone would melt me into goo."

"Di- _d_ you and Noah have lit- _tle_ star dates like _that_?" Joker huskily wondered, lifting his hand from the steering wheel to do air quotations when he spoke the words "star dates".

His gaze lingered on her a bit too long to see her expression falter.

"No." She frowned. "I always asked him if we could do that, and he thought it was lame."

Joker openly scoffed, running a hand through his messy curls, as he shifted in his seat. "Sounds like a total _tool_."

Ember propped her elbow on her leg, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she focused on the dark trees that passed by the van at a rapid speed.

"I want to name my daughter Rhiannon, actually. That's how symbolic that song is to my life."

Joker stiffened in his seat, an indescribable feeling overcoming him at Ember's mention of children.

"You want- _uh, kids_?" He pried, not daring to tear his focus from the road.

"Of course. I'm starting to get old though. By the time I find love again, I'll probably be too old to conceive anyways." She frowned, picking at the loose skin on her fingernail as Joker sucked on the inside of his cheek. "Do you want kids?"

"No- _pe_." He muttered, his lips smacking together tightly to enunciate the "p".

 _Not that he could have them anyways._

"Where are we going anyways?"

"Ever _wonder_ what it's like to rob a _jewelry_ store, _darlin_?" He raised a brow, tightening his hold on the steering wheel as Ember's jaw dropped.

"Um, not really..." She murmured as he thrust a black and white checkered bandana in her direction.

"I'd- _uh, wear_ this if I were you."

"Why?" Ember drawled, the tips of her fingers brushing against his as she took the bandana from his grasp.

"D'yah _want_ people to _recognize_ you?"

Ember smoothed the pads of her fingers over the fabric, chewing mindlessly on her bottom lip as her legs met the floor of the van once again.

"Well, according to you, I won't be going home ever again, so who fucking cares, right? Who knows, maybe being a criminal could be fun." Ember snorted, appalled that the words actually escaped her mouth.

Joker snickered, his brown eyes meeting her identical orbs as his hand suddenly met her thigh.

"That's my _girl_."

* * *

"Are yah _ready_?" Joker beamed, parking the SUV behind a mom-and-pop Jewelers in downtown Gotham.

"No." Ember divulged, a bit of a queasy feeling settling in her belly as the clown climbed from the vehicle.

The unnaturally blonde woman followed pursuit, teetering back and forth on her heel as Joker removed a set of brass keys from the front pocket of his ostentatious coat.

"Please tell me you didn't kill the owner to get those." Ember panicked, her eyes widened at the keys in his right hand, while in his left, sat a very much loaded gun.

"I didn't kill the _owner_ ," Joker stated, approaching the rusted metal door of the building. Arlen's Jewelers sat plastered on the door in faded lettering, peeling at the corners as he thrust the door open. "I killed the _manager_."

Ember's heart plummeted in her chest, her feet shuffling closely behind the broad-shouldered man as they entered the dark abyss of the jewelry store.

Joker hummed a nameless tune under his breath, walking with a slight skip in his step as Ember's fingers brushed against his back.

"Sorry. It's dark." She sheepishly stated, an amused grunt coming from him as he rounded a corner, flicking on a set of lights that illuminated the compact store.

Ember blinked several times, her eyes taking awhile to adjust to the sudden light as Joker disappeared from view, whistling sharply as he searched for a safe full of money.

"Take _anything_ yah like, _toots_!" He called from around a corner, gun still held firmly in his clutch as he shuffled through stacks of paperwork on a desk.

She paced the floor, her feet clad with an old, matted pair of sleek black combat boots with scuffs on the toe. Joker had only grabbed her four pairs of shoes, and thankfully, her favorite boots were one of them.

Ember's body jolted at the abrupt sound of Joker rummaging through items in the back of the store, the distinct sound of him smacking those damn lips could be heard from several yards away.

Her chocolate brown gaze lingered on a particular glass case full of vibrant colored rings.

A short squeal emerged from her chapped lips as she rounded the case, tugging at the glass door, only to sigh in defeat when it didn't budge.

Of course it was locked.

"Joker?" She lightly called, her gaze set on an emerald stone accompanied by a silver band.

" _Yeeeees_?" The man drawled, his tone high-pitched and quite eldritch as he reappeared around a corner, his shoulders hunched as he held a hefty stack of bills in his clutch.

"I want this one." The woman confidently spoke, pressing her forefinger harshly against the glass to point to the ring she wanted.

" _Fuck_ , Em." Joker groaned, shoving the wad of cash into his coat pocket as he retrieved a white cloth from his pinstripe pant pocket, a loaded gun still held in his opposite palm. " _Stop_ leaving behin- _d_ prints."

She watched as he vigorously rubbed the glass, wiping away her fingerprint as he sighed deeply.

"Wha- _t_ else did yah _touch_ , babe?" Joker groaned, rolling his eyes when she embarrassingly pointed to the handle of the glass door.

"Next _t_ -ime, you're wearing _gloves_."

"Deal. Now, give me my ring." Ember giddily replied, clapping her hands together when the man removed the set of keys from his pocket once again, thrusting open the door and outstretching an arm.

"Which- _uh, one_?"

"The emerald one." Ember exclaimed, her hand darting into the case as she carefully removed the ring from the holder, not leaving behind any prints as she retracted her hand from the case. "It's beautiful."

"Can't _believe_ they charge three grand for tha- _t_ shi- _t_." Joker spat, hanging onto his "t"s a bit longer than usual as he closed the glass door once more.

"Thanks, Joker." Ember whispered, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as the painted-face man swayed in place.

He intently watched as she placed the ring on the fourth finger of her right hand, the band slipping perfectly into place as she grinned.

"You're _welcome_. Let's get outta here- _ah_."

Just as the duo turned to make their way towards the back of the store once more, several pairs of flashing lights, red, white and blue, glimmered on the back wall.

" _Fuck_." He breathed.

"J-Joker—" Ember stammered, her knees beginning to wobble as several police men climbed from their vehicles, guns pointed directly at the two of them as they shouted on the opposite side of the glass.

" _Run_." Joker bluntly ordered, his fingers lacing around her bicep as he tugged her backward.

She stumbled behind him, nearly toppling over her own feet as tears began to freely fall from her eyes.

 _She was so fucked._

"I don't want to go to jail!" Ember loudly sobbed, wincing when the man tightened his hold on her frail arm.

"Shut _up_." He simply ordered, swinging the back door open with his foot as he released his hold on her skin.

She watched with wide eyes as he pointed the gun in the direction of the front of the store, his head nodding in the opposite direction as Ember merely froze in place.

" _C'mon_!" He urged, his hand finding hers as he drug her along, avoiding the parked SUV as they scampered down a dark alleyway.

A shriek left Ember's lips when the sudden sound of a gun being fired met her ears. She instinctively ducked, her fingers tugging away from Joker's as he lifted the gun, planting a bullet in the nearby officers skull with ease.

"O-Oh my—"

" _Come_!" Joker barked, gripping onto her arm once again as they weaved between the parked cars on the side of the road.

"Quick- _ly_." He urged, his long legs taking extremely large strides as she struggled to keep up.

The distinctive sound of police sirens wailed in the distance, Ember's heart thumping thickly in her throat as she followed closely behind the Joker. Her hand still lay laced in his large palm, her feet beginning to ache as they squeezed between several additional buildings, finally coming upon a deserted park lined with wilted trees and several hills of grass.

"This- _uh, way._ " He grunted, sprinting in the direction of a relatively large hill, standing several yards above the road.

Ember trailed behind, her legs cramping as they swiftly climbed the hill.

"Lay _down_." Joker calmly instructed, collapsing onto the grass as he stilled against the ground, his tall frame undetectable from the other side of the hill.

Ember quickly shuffled onto the ground, the sounds of the sirens increasing as she flattened herself against the grass. Her chest heaved as she lay inches from the Joker, her fingers only gently brushing against his as several police cars zoomed by on the opposite side of the hill.

She'd stopped breathing altogether at the sound, her chest beginning to ache from lack of air intake as the sirens finally hushed, disappearing into the night.

Her eyes met Joker's, whose were filled with delight as a grin tiptoed across his scarred cheeks.

"Now tha- _t_ is how it's done, swee- _t_ cheeks." He sang, lifting his head from the grass so that he could snake his arm behind it, propping it upward to get a bit more comfortable.

"I feel like I'm having a heartattack." Ember dryly laughed, her chest heaving as she struggled to regulate her breathing.

" _Adrenaline_ , love. It's a grea- _t_ feeling."

The pair of them lay silently beside one another, Ember's heartbeat finally steadying as her gaze fixated on the cloudless sky above.

Millions of stars twinkled against the black firmament, her body becoming lax as she admired the beautiful sight.

"What a gorgeous night." She murmured, lacing her fingers together and resting them on her stomach as she became immersed in the beauty of the heavens above.

Joker craned his neck as he admired her expression. A silly grin was slapped on her face, her eyes wide as she hardly blinked, as if the stars would magically vanish if she did. Her damn lips were chapped again, the skin on her bottom lip beginning to peel as she wet them too often, drying them out even further. He adored the shape of her nose, the simple way it hooked at the end, almost pointing downwards towards her mouth. Her cheekbones were prominent, even more so than before, possibly from loss of weight. However, all of her imperfections were absolutely perfect to him.

The gun sat several inches on the ground from him, the safety flicked on as he dug deeply into his front pant pocket, fishing out a sleek purple iPod as he quickly shuffled through his playlist.

Ember lay tranquil against the earth, mesmerized by the beauty of the sky above when a sudden lick of lyrics filled her senses.

 _Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night_

 _And wouldn't you love to love her?_

The air immediately eluded her lungs at the sound of the familiar lyrics, her lips curling into a painfully large smile as her neck snapped sideways.

Joker lay beside her, his iPod resting between the overgrown blades of grass above his matching colored curls as his eyes twinkled.

"Joker," Ember sighed, her limbs growing warm with content as she stared deeply into his orbs. "You have this song on your iPod?"

"I'm jus- _t full_ of surprises, _aren't_ I?" Joker breathlessly spoke, a sincere chuckle tumbling from his red mouth as Ember's gaze flickered downward to meet his lips.

 _She is like a cat in the dark,_

 _And then she is the darkness._

"D'you still ha- _te_ me?" His tone was soft and full of worry as she merely smiled.

"You tell me." She whispered, rolling from her back to her belly, her upper body coming into contact with his broad frame as her left hand snaked its way into his hair.

Before Joker could even process the situation at hand, Ember's lips were on his.

If it were even possible, he was quite certain that the world had stop rotating entirely. It was as if all the noise had ceased, that time simply had stood still. Even in the middle of a severely populated and polluted city, somehow, the two of them felt as if they entirely alone. The world was theirs.

And suddenly, he was fifteen again. He'd just confessed his innermost feelings for the most beautiful and simply perfect girl on the entire planet, and her response was a kiss, much like this one. And just like that very first kiss, he'd forgotten how to breathe entirely, his lips remaining motionless against hers for several seconds too long as his brain frantically attempted to process the situation at hand.

Finally, it had registered. He was kissing Ember... his Ember... kissing her after all this damn time...

Her lips resembled wine and he fell drunk simply from the touch, his gloved hands knotting into her outgrown blonde locks as he pulled her closer.

An innocent moan slipped into his mouth as she reacted to his kiss, their tongues dancing blissfully against one another as they drifted into complete euphoria.

This was Heaven.

This was home.

 _Would you stay if she promised to you heaven?_

 _Will you ever win?_

Ember shifted her weight on top of him, her slender legs tangling with his as she cupped his painted jaw, smearing the white makeup as she traced circles against the skin with the pad of her thumb. His mouth tasted of paint as his scarred bottom lip brushed against hers, a foreign yet exhilarating feeling. Although his lips and cheeks had been marred by the hand of a violent, drunken man, they were still his lips. And oh, did they taste and feel so damn _sweet_.

And oh, was she _so_ right. Laying here, underneath the stars as they molded together in a tangled mess of limbs, swallowing each others breathless sighs and whimpers as their lips fell numb from the contact. Her fingers threaded in his curls as his tugged at her straight locks, Stevie Nicks' enchanting voice filling the void as they equally drifted into a tranquil state.

Ember's lips slowly detached from Joker's, her bottom lip sticking to his slightly as his eyelids slowly fluttered open, only to screw shut again when her now red stained lips came into contact with the destroyed tissue of his left face.

She was extremely gentle, her lips barely grazing the raised skin as she inspected the healed wounds with her lips, an array of goosebumps littering every inch of her skin as she felt every bump, every crevice.

Even with the facial deformity, he was fucking _perfect_.

Her left thumb grazed over his right cheek, carefully caressing the marred skin as she pressed feathered kisses to his left scar.

"Em," Joker rasped, his eyes fluttering open once again as the woman retracted her face from his cheek. He giggled at the sight of her, cheeks flushed and eyes wild as her lips were smeared with bright red paint, courtesy of his lips.

"Yeah?" She breathlessly spoke.

"So I'm- _uh, guessing_ this means you don't _hate_ me?"

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm totally cringing because he is soo OOC at the end there BUT I felt like I've tortured yall long enough.

YAY JOKER AND EMBER HAVE FINALLY KISSED WOOT WOOT literally only took sixteen fuckin chapters but oh well.

Now the REAL fun begins ;)

 **QOTD** : Have you seen any of Heath's other movies? If so, which one is your favorite? (Or, rather, your top two/three favorites?)

My answer: I CAN'T PICK IM SO INDECISIVE. Candy by far is my favorite, Dark Knight a close second, but I loveee 10 Things I Hate About You, Brokeback Mountain, A Knight's Tale Casanova soo much as well!


	17. XVII

_"He was still a mystery to me. And God, did I want to play Nancy Drew."_

—Cora Carmack

* * *

Ember's back slammed forcibly against the drywall, her head swimming as the booming sound of the front door closing caused her arms to involuntarily jerk in surprise.

A pair of lips urgently reattached to hers, her slender legs snaking their way up his waist as the thick purple coat toppled to the floor with a satisfying thump.

She opened her eyes to admire his features, which were dark from the lack of lighting in the eerily quiet house. Ember's eyelids fluttered closed once again, becoming immersed in all things him as her ankles hooked together against his back.

A sigh of content escaped Joker's smeared painted lips as the palms of his hands encaptured each side of her waist.

Ember's lips went numb with satisfaction as her fingers twiddled with the small curls that sat at the nape of his neck. Only just this morning, she'd been intoxicated with a wondrous high, courtesy of the marijuana Joker had provided her with. However, the current high she felt at the feeling of his lips against hers surpassed any high that drugs could award her.

It was as if his lips were a remedy, washing away all the hurt, pain, and loneliness she'd felt over time. He was the antidote that would cure her despair.

A faint groan fell from her mouth when the feeling of his lips evanesced, her heart leaping into her chest when his scarred cheeks grazed the fragile skin of her neck. Ember's neck lulled back, her skull resting against the unevenly painted wall as Joker's overgrown curls tickled her jaw. A short squeal emerged from her the moment his lips came into contact with her neck, her legs tightening around his waist in response as her hips involuntarily bucked upwards. Her grip emitted a low grunt from the man, his head spinning with lust as he took her soft skin between his teeth. His fingers tightened their hold on her hips, desperately attempting to keep the wiggling girl in place as she fidgeted under his lips.

"Stay _still_." He hissed under his breath, his lips trailing upwards to that most sensitive spot on her neck, directly underneath her ear as she whined in response.

Joker retracted his palms from her waist, prying the leather gloves from his fingers as he quickly discarded them onto the floor, not once removing his lips from her as he did so. Instead of returning his hold to her pertruding hipbones, Joker bucked his own hips forward, balancing her against the wall with his lower half as his bare hands traveled up her trembling body. She quivered beneath his touch as his left hand sharply cupped her jaw, his thumb gently pressing her chin upwards to give him more access to her neck as his right hand snaked down her thigh.

 _She was making out with Gotham's most wanted criminal._

Although this was nothing new between them, it was still rather thrilling to be swapping spit with a man people typically feared.

As she lay lax against the wall, her eyes screwed shut in ecstacy as the Joker continued his rough, yet somewhat gentle assault on the flesh of her neck, she couldn't help but wonder: was he still in love with her?

She knew quite well that Jackson was entirely capable of feeling love and affection towards her, but could the Joker experience those same feelings as well? Was he too far gone in that twisted mind of his to be able to feel such an extroardinary feeling?

Regardless of how she felt about him fifteen years prior, simply put, Ember did not love the Joker.

His lips were like fire, they left behind pleasant burns on her skin as her senses came alive. This feeling, however, was simply physical. She enjoyed the feeling of his lips, as well as the breathless sounds that tumbled from them. She did not, however, love him.

"J-Joker—" She croaked, her fingers tightening their hold on his curls as she attempted to pull his face from her neck.

He obliged, blinking several times in confusion as his vision steadied. She giggled at his complexion, slightly amused by how smeared his makeup was. Most of the white greasepaint on his cheeks had been wiped off entirely, due to the clamminess of her hands. Heaps of red paint circled his mouth and scars, almost creepy looking as he keenly wet his lips.

"What's _wrong_?" He huskily murmured, his callused thumb swiping against her swollen bottom lip as he instantly craved them once more.

"I should probably go to sleep." Ember whispered.

His features slackened, his hands firmly gripping onto her thighs to help her back onto the ground as a sigh escaped his lips.

"Uh, _okay_." Joker grunted, his scarred, swollen lips suddenly tugging into an amused smirk as he took in her appearance.

"What?" She innocently squeaked.

"You should- _uh, see_ your _face_." He stupidly grinned.

Ember raised a brow, raising her hands as she took in the appearance of her palms. Nearly every inch of the skin on the inside of her hands had been coated in a mixture of white and black greasepaint.

"Well, judging by how my hands look, my face probably looks like yours." She snorted, her fingers darting upward to claim her tingling lips.

"Good- _night_ , doll." Joker whispered, flashing her a final toothy grin before collecting his discarded purple coat from the ground, along with his leather gloves, and exiting the room.

Ember eventually shuffled in the direction of her bedroom, her hands outstretched to feel for any obstacles as she navigated her way through the dark house.

A snoring heap of Horton lay on the matted sofa, which Ember had nearly run into from lack of proper vision.

Her jaw dropped in astonishment when the bathroom lights finally flickered on. Joker was right, she looked absolutely foolish. Her lips, chin, and neck were heavily smeared with bright red greasepaint, along with several smaller splotches of white on the tip of her nose, as well as several streaks of it along her neck, where his nose had sat buried.

Ember's heart hammered in her chest as she reminisced on their romantic night. She'd kissed the Joker... she'd tasted the sweetness of his tongue and felt the electrifying touch of his fingers.

Curiously, the woman lifted her shirt from her torso, starting the shower as she waited for the water to warm up. Her eyes trailed downward, hovering over the spots where his fingers dug into her skin, only to widen at what he'd left behind.

Small purple bruises in the shape of fingertips sat upon her hipbones, courtesy of his strong hold as her stomach fluttered.

 _His touch was intoxicating._

With a sigh, Ember stepped into the shower, washing away the evidence of Joker's lips as the paint dribbled down the drain.

* * *

The Joker was MIA for several days following their encounter.

It's not that he was necessarily avoiding Ember, it was just that he needed to get his head on straight again. She'd softened him, distracted him. He was the fucking Joker for fucks sake, not some sappy romantic who lays under the stars and kisses her whilst listening to a Fleetwood Mac song.

All thanks to Horton, he was able to thoroughly dodge the woman. His henchman would inform him of when she was showering, sleeping, etcetera, so that he could slink about and get what he needed from the kitchen.

On day four of no contact with Ember DeLoughrey, Joker and Horton had left the house without notice, causing her to panic for several minutes when she found every room empty, as well as an absence of a note.

"Has everything been okay, boss?" Horton gently inquired, his legs crossed in the passenger seat as Joker navigated through the busy streets of the city in broad daylight.

"No- _t_ necessarily, bud." The clown grunted, nibbling on the scar of his bottom lip as they made their way to their destination.

"What's been going on, if you don't mind me asking?" The henchman asked, staring closely at the handsome man beside him as he fidgeted in his seat.

Joker sighed, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as his left leg began to bounce irritably.

"I've- _uh, not_ been in my righ- _t_ mind," He dryly explained. "Uh, I've felt _sort_ of sane, late- _ly_."

Horton raised a brow.

 _Was it because of Ember?_

"As you can _uh, see_ ," Joker paused, taking a corner a bit too sharply as Horton clung onto the handle of the roof. " _Sane_ doesn't look _good_ on me."

"I understand, boss."

 _Anything looks good on you._

"We're- _ah_ , paying lit- _tle_ Alexander a _visit_."

Horton grinned, knowing exactly what this visit would entail.

Alexander Norman is a quite successful drug dealer in Gotham, not to mention, he's also a total dweeb. Unlike most top-notch dealers, he had no protection of any sorts. If all went well, Joker and Horton would leave today with a trunk full of assorted drugs.

"I heard about your little jewelry store robbery. Was on the news." The henchman explained.

Joker's features brightened.

"Was it _really_?" He grinned, thrusting the gear shift into park as he unlatched his seatbelt.

"Yeah. You're the talk of the town again." Horton genuinely smiled. He knew damn well that Joker loved the attention.

"Well, I certain- _ly_ will be after _today_."

The painted-face man clambered from the vehicle, his mix-matched socks sliding out of view as his purple pinstripe pants covered his ankles once again.

His left hand shoved deeply into his outer coat pocket, gloved fingers lacing around the very same switchblade Michelle Napier had given him for his eighteenth birthday. The memory seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it had only aged twelve years.

Alexander lived in an upscale apartment in downtown Gotham, all thanks to his hefty drug income.

Horton scaled the area, ensuring that no passerbys were paying mutch attention as Joker skipped around the SUV, waving in the direction of the fire escape of the building.

The two men climbed up the steps, Joker taking them three at a time as Horton trailed further behind.

"Hurry _up_ , Hor- _t_." Joker hissed over his shoulder, curling his purple gloved fingers around the brisk metal of the stairs as he hopped over the side and onto the opposite side.

He halted at a balcony three stories up, accessorized with old plastic patio chairs, slightly stained from the outdoors as a packed ash tray sat on the table.

Joker hummed under his breath, his knuckles coming into contact with the fingerprint stained glass door as he swayed in place.

Horton took his spot behind the clown, an unnerving feeling settling in his bones as the door slowly slid open.

A very freckled face man stood across from the Joker, nearly dwarfed by the height difference as he gently smiled.

"Oh, hi Joker. Why didn't you just use the front door?"

"I- _uh_ , have a knock- _knock_ joke for yah," Joker mused, his lips twisting into a devilish grin as he fumbled with an object hidden behind his coat.

"Alright?" Alexander raised an eyebrow.

"Knock- _knock_."

"Whose there?" Alexander blandly replied.

Before Alexander could react, Joker had pried a gun from behind his back, steadying it directly in front of his face and sinking a bullet deep into his skull.

* * *

Ember lay sprawled across the distressed sofa, her head resting in her palm as she focused on the Gotham news plastered on the television.

Joker was fucking ignoring her. They'd shared such a romantic night together, along with a steamy makeout session some time after. Then, he woke up the next morning and acted as if she didn't exist.

This bullshit had gone on for several days, and quite frankly, Ember was getting sick of it.

 _Was it just some kind of game to him?_

 _Was he just trying to get into her pants?_

Her jumbled thoughts were interrupted when the news displayed a photograph of a deceased man. Ember's jaw widened at the sight of his mangled face—a set of scars, nearly identical to Joker's sat upon his face, bleeding profusively as he lay still on the ground. The headline, along with a photograph of the Joker himself flashed across the screen, urging citizens to stay indoors and call the police if they have any information to provide.

Ember's stomach twisted into painful knots as his face lingered on the screen. Endless pits of black circled his eyes, the white paint creasing on his forehead as a sinister grin tore his scars further up his face. He looked absolutely horrific, and she'd made out with him only days prior.

The woman jumped when the sudden sound of the front door swinging open rang in her ears. The familiar tone of Joker's high-pitched voice filled the room, a strand of hysterical giggles tumbling from his lips as she propelled herself off of the sofa.

Ember's eyes widened at the sight of an extremely giddy Joker, waving a loaded gun around with his arm as Horton tossed black gym bags identical to the ones in her room onto the kitchen island.

Joker's dark gaze met hers, the giggles ceasing as he placed the gun onto the counter.

He merely sighed, his lips pulling into a sarcastically toothy grin as he spoke in a gravely tone.

" _Hiiiii_."

Ember's brows knit together in frustration, her feet carrying her swiftly towards the sorry excuse for a man as she jabbed her index finger against his broad chest.

"Why have you been ignoring me?" She exclaimed, pressing her finger harshly against his chest as he merely chuckled in response.

"I don't have to ex- _plain_ myself to anyone, _toots_." He mocked, shoving her hand away as he circled the counter, prying open the refrigerator door to retrieve a can of Bud Light.

"I'm not just anyone, Joker. I'm your—"

"You're my _what_?" He snipped, slamming the can onto the counter as his demeanor instantly shifted.

Ember's jaw lay slack, words escaping her as she threw her arms dramatically into the air.

"I don't fucking know, Joker! I don't know what I am to you! It'd be nice if you could fill me in on that!" Her voice wavered as she gauged his reactions. So far, he remained unfazed.

"Hor- _ton_ ," The man growled, twisting the can between his fingers as the blonde boy's eyes widened. " _Leave_."

"Y-Yes sir." Horton stammered, scurrying from the room as Joker's menacing glare refocused on the woman.

"Let's get this straigh- _t_ , toots." He began, inching slowly towards the cowering woman with hunched shoulders. "If you _think_ that you _own_ me, or what- _ever_ the _fuck_ you're thinking, you _don't_."

Ember blinked away several tears, her breaths hitching in her throat when his face was suddenly inches from hers.

"You're _nothing_ but a set of pretty _legs_." Joker growled.

"You don't mean that." Ember choked, only to be interrupted by a harsh, sinister laugh that bounced loudly off the kitchen walls. Joker nearly doubled over in amusement, clutching onto his side with his right hand as he persistently licked his lips.

"If I didn't _mean_ it, why would I _say_ it, darlin?" He giggled, smacking his lips together as he turned on his heel.

Ember's hand darted outward, claiming the fabric of his coat as his neck craned sideways to observe her actions, only to be met by a curled fist straight to his jaw.

Joker stumbled backwards several inches, his palm darting upward to claim the sore skin as his eyes widened in shock.

 _Did she just fucking punch him?_

"You fucking _bitch_." He seethed, curling his fingers into a tight fist as he delivered a punch square to her nose.

Ember toppled backwards, her backside colliding with the tile floor as she clutched her bleeding nose in her grasp, her vision blurry with tears as sobs wracked through her chest.

"Let's get this _straight_ , mother- _fucker_." Joker began, towering over the woman as she sobbed beneath him. "You hi- _t_ me, I _hit_ you back _harder_."

His hand darted outward to claim her jaw, his index finger and thumb squeezing the skin tightly as she cried out beneath him. Through her tears, he looked like a blob of white, black and red as she attempted to stop the profuse bleeding from her nostrils.

"You don't _own_ me, Ember." Joker coolly hissed, releasing her jaw forcefully as he removed himself from her tiny frame, abandoning her in the kitchen as she struggled to regulate her breathing.


	18. XVIII

_"Have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?"_

—Jack Nicholson

* * *

Ember's nose was undoubtedly broken.

After nearly an hour of leaning over the bathtub, her bright red blood staining the off-white plastic tub as she gaudily sobbed, the bleeding began to cease.

Joker hadn't even checked on her. Not that she necessarily wanted him to, anyways. In all honesty, she was rather fearful of him again.

 _Back to square fucking one._

How fucking _vacuous_ could she be to actually think that he remotely had any feelings towards her? Even though she'd openly admit that she was still in love with Jackson, she did not love the Joker, and the events that unfolded in the kitchen today proved exactly why.

 _He was a monster._

As the woman lay slung over the tub, her ribs beginning to ache from the uncomfortable position, Jackson's fifteen-year-old face bombarded her mind.

 _God, what she'd do to have him back._

"Ember?" A muffled voice squeaked from behind the wood of the door.

"Come in." She lazily spoke, her head throbbing in discomfort as she didn't even bother to look at who entered.

"Are you hungry?" Horton's voice called.

"He hates me, doesn't he?" Ember croaked, the back of her hand lazily swiping against her nostrils as she wiped away the excess blood.

Horton raised a brow, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other in the doorway.

"If he hated you, you'd be dead."

Ember twisted in her spot, collapsing onto her bottom as her back rest against the side of the tub. The blonde boy stood stiffly in the doorway, his bottom lip between his teeth as he observed the blackened skin surrounding her nose.

"What's going on between you two?" He added, quite nervous to hear her response. Even though he adored his boss with every fiber of his being, he knew that he'd never be his.

"I dunno," she honestly answered, avoiding any eye contact with the henchman. "One minute he's a sappy romantic, kissing me under the stars with Stevie Nicks playing in the background. The next, he's clinging to me like a fucking leech, practically ripping my clothes off. And then, nothing. Fucking stone cold."

 _Why the hell was she telling all of this to Horton?_

"You guys have kissed?" The man squeaked, his face paling as the words left his mouth. "Do you fuck, too?"

Ember paused, observing the expression plastered across Horton's face as she shuffled in place against the tub.

"Uh, no."

Even though the thought of him merely disgusted her at the moment, the visuals of them becoming intimate with one another were enough to make her toes curl. Sure, they'd only been together—like that—the one time way-back-when, but she couldn't help but wonder how it'd be to sleep with the fucking Joker. Something told her that he was the dominant type in bed.

"Horton, can I ask you something? I consider us friends." Ember stated, bringing her knees to her chest, her arms wrapping around her lanky legs as Horton grew more uncomfortable by the second.

"You do?" He practically scoffed.

"Well, I mean, I have no friends and I'm kind of lonely here, so you're close enough to one." She rambled.

"Uh, alright. Shoot."

"Do you think the Joker is capable of feeling love?"

The mans jaw dropped at her inquiry, closing tightly again as he struggled to formulate a response.

"I-I don't know, to be honest," he stammered, his forehead crinkling in wonder as he fidgeted in place. "Maybe?"

Ember hummed in response, her fingers lacing together as she imagined those three words escaping Joker's scarred lips.

Would she ever hear them come out of his mouth ever again?

"Where is he? I want to see him." She spat, climbing to her feet as the sticky blood on her shirt clung to the skin of her chest.

"You want to see him after he broke your nose?" Horton chuckled, even though he'd feel the very same way. Nothing could waver his feelings for Joker, nothing. He was simply in too damn deep.

Ember wordlessly nodded, twisting the knobs on the faucet as the water came out in a steady stream. Horton awkwardly watched as she ran her fingers under the water, wiping the dried blood from her face as she cleaned herself up a bit.

"He's not here," Horton stated. Ember craned her neck, a puzzled expression on her face as the water dribbled down her chin. "He left all pissy."

"To do what?"

Horton sighed.

 _Was she really that damn stupid?_

"Well, he is the Joker, and you did piss him off. Typically, he just kills people that piss him off, but for some reason, he just won't kill you. So, he has to kill somebody, otherwise he'll lose his damn mind."

* * *

"P-Please don't—"

" _Please don't._ " Joker mocked, a shrill burst of laughter erupting from his lips as he fisted the collar of her shirt, slamming her body against the drywall like a ragdoll.

The woman cried outward in pain, blinking away a mess of tears as her feet dangled inches from the floor, her body held upwards by the strong hold of Joker's fist.

That signature Glasglow grin curled upwards, the red nearly meeting his black holes for eyes as he released his hold on the woman. He watched as she tumbled to the floor, her knees buckling as she thrust her hands out to dampen her fall.

She lay flatly on the ground, watching the mans feet intently as he circled the area, a strand of profanities falling from his scarred lips. The woman stilled when the haunting sound of a switchblade clicking into place echoed in her ears.

"Oh god, please no—" She begged, her eyes meeting the violent purple handle of the blade as her blood instantly ran cold.

 _She's seen that blade before._

"F-Fuck," she stammered, slowly crawling to her feet as she flattened against the wall. Joker's brows raised as he gradually approached the shivering woman, his tongue caressing the deep folds of his face as her heart stopped beating entirely. "Jackson?"

"Ge- _zuuus_ ," Joker wheezed. "Too- _k_ yah long enough, _O-liv-i-uh._ "

Livy's eyes widened in horror, her arm outstretching to capture his face.

Joker froze, his gaze locked on her hand as it slowly rose to his face. Surprisingly, he allowed the somewhat innocent gesture, her trembling fingertips gliding across his cheeks, the destroyed flesh slipping between her hands.

"I didn't even recognize the scars under all that makeup..." She trailed off, the pad of her thumb tracing the deep crevices of his left scar as he sat still beneath her touch, his breaths coming out in short spurts as his chest tightened. Not out of lust, but out of hatred.

"Take a goo- _d_ look, sweet pea. _You're_ the reason my _face_ looks like _this_." He hissed, the brisk knife coming into contact with her collarbone as she trembled under his grasp.

The fingers on his free hand laced around her neck, his fingers applying the perfect amount of pressure to ensure that she could still somewhat breathe. She screeched as he lifted her feet from the ground with ease, holding her body against the wall by the nape of her neck. Livy's hands clawed at his, desperately trying to pry his clutch from her neck as she gasped for air.

"J-Jackson—" She rasped, her legs swinging violently as they collided with his knees. Joker merely chuckled, releasing his hold suddenly, causing Livy to tumble messily to the floor once again. The woman loudly gasped for air, massaging the swollen skin of her neck with her fingers as Joker steadily watched, a sinister grin plastered on his face.

"You're the J-Joker? How?" Livy gasped, still limp on the floor as Joker clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

" _Hmm_ ," Joker sang, flawlessly twisting the open blade between his fingers, not once catching the skin of his fingers on the knife as he lowered himself to Olivia's level. "Let's see- _ah_."

He tapped the dull end of the blade against his painted chin, as if to think of all the reasons why he became the infamous Joker.

"Have you- _uh, for-got-ten_ what you did to me, _all_ those years ago?"

"I didn't do anything to you, Jackson!" Livy swiftly defended, but was silenced by a sudden and unexpected slap clean across her face.

Livy's eyes widened, her neck twisted at a painful angle as her hands instantly caressed the tender skin where Joker had hit her.

"You're full of _shit_ , Liv." He snapped. " _Tell_ me when it _happened_."

He didn't need to elaborate, Olivia knew exactly what he was referring to.

The woman took a deep breath, her eyelids fluttering closed as she recollected the memories of her time with Jackson. It was true, they did have unprotected sex in front of the fireplace that one night. However, she also had multiple rounds of unprotected sex with Ken, the boy who lived down the street, around the very same time.

"There wasn't just one night," she revealed, her eyes focusing on his pink tongue, which was currently tracing the torn tissue of his right cheek. "Ken and I slept together multiple times, all unprotected. I'm sorry, Jackson."

Joker rose to his feet, a hand running through his greasy, flourescent locks as Livy cowered on the floor beneath him.

"Why di- _d_ you tell me it was _mine_?"

"B-Because I loved you—" Livy stuttered, but was immediately silenced by a harsh blow to the sternum. A yelp fell from her lips as she curled into a tiny ball on the ground. The pain was excruciating, and she had a very bad feeling that the Joker wasn't done with her just yet.

Joker fell to his knees, seizing her face in his hands as he squeezed her chin between his fingers, the blade slipping between her lips as she loudly cried beneath him. With wild eyes, Joker rotated her body to sit on top of her, flattening the woman against the floor as his hips ground painfully against hers.

"You're fucking _trash_." He spat, his nose only inches from hers as she violently shook beneath him. His shoulders sat hunched above her, the blade tearing against the corner of her mouth as he drew a small sliver of blood.

An ear-piercing scream fell from her lips, silencing into a slight gurgle as blood pooled into her mouth.

Joker removed his hands from her face, allowing the woman to twist her neck to the side and spit the blood from her mouth. He wasn't finished with her yet, and he couldn't have her drown in her own blood before he was fully satisfied.

"You _didn't_ love _me_." Joker huskily whispered, spitting on her cheek as he removed his weight from her hips.

"Mom?" A third voice called from across the room.

Joker's painted lips curled into a painfully large smile, his torso slowly twisting to see the source of the voice.

A giggle vibrated through his chest when his gaze settled upon a shivering girl in the doorway, her lanky limbs covered with Winnie-The-Pooh pajamas as she clutched a teddy bear in her arms.

" _Avery_?" Joker hauntingly whispered.

Avery's eyes settled upon her bleeding, cowering mother on the floor, her mouth twisting into an "o" shape as she observed the clown before her. She instantly recognized him as the man on the television, the Joker.

"Mommy, why is the Joker here?"

"D'you- _uh, remember_ me, doll?" Joker pried, his feet slowly shuffling over towards the girl in the doorway.

"I don't know you. I only know you from the TV." Avery confidently spoke.

"You- _uh_ , used to _love_ the sound of my voice, baby _girl_."

Avery openly scoffed at his statement. His voice was creepy, she hated it.

"What do you mean?" She squeaked.

"When- _uh_ , you were in your Mama's _belly_ , you'd always _kick_ when you hear- _d_ my _voice_."

Joker reminisced on the memory, squeezing his eyes closed tightly to rid himself of the painful visual of Avery always kicking against his palm. Back then, that was the best feeling in the world.

Avery's eyebrows knit together in confusion, her weight shifting from one foot to the other as she stared past the Joker and at her mother on the floor.

"Mommy, what is he talking about?" The girl panicked, her gaze avoiding Joker's haunting complexion. She'd surely see him in her nightmares for weeks.

"Sweet pea, I used to date him. H-He thought he was your dad." Livy croaked.

Avery blinked several times, horrified by the fact that her mother dated this hideous man...

"I promise, he wasn't so scary back then, Ave. He didn't wear all that makeup either."

" _Enough_ small talk." Joker boomed.

" _You_ ," He thrusted his finger in Olivia's direction. "Are the reason my _life_ went to _shit_."

"J-Jackson, please—" Livy begged, but immediately shrieked in horror when Joker retrieved a handgun from the inside of his theatrical purple coat. His gaze sat fixated on Livy the entire time, not once looking in the direction of where the gun was pointed when it suddenly fired, sending a ripple of vibration up his arm.

A body thudded to the ground, the only sound in the building was that of Livy's immense sobs as Joker clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"I- _uh_ , shoulda done that tw- _elve_ years ago." He muttered, his gloved fingers toying with the gun as he slowly approached the cowering woman on the floor.

"D-Do y-you know what you've just d-done?" She sobbed, her electric eyes transforming into a deep, blood red as she loudly sobbed on the floor.

"Uh, _yes_ ," he drawled. "I _shot_ your little girl in the _face_."

The man sunk to the floor once again, the knife meeting Livy's cheeks as his open palm cupped her jaw.

"Now we can _match_."

Before Livy could react, the knife tore through the skin of her cheek, a blinding wave of pain flashing through her as she begged for the end to come.

* * *

 **A/N:** Quite a dark chapter, but I thought it was essential to show. Even though the Joker can be soft and even romantic with Ember, he is still the Joker, and he's a truly fucked up dude with no remorse for his actions.


	19. XIX

**A/N** : Hello darlings! I just wanted to let you guys know that I will not be leaving any trigger warnings for chapters (mainly because it messes with the flow and ruins the element of surprise). I realize that Joker killing Avery was beyond fucked up, however, keep in mind that he is the Joker. He had absolutely no problem blowing up an entire hospital, as well as boats full of innocent people (including children), therefore his actions are not really much of a surprise. I do, however, apologize if the scene upset anyone in any way. Originally, I was going to have Joker kill both Olivia and Avery the same night he killed Charlie, but I decided against it and instead went with this approach. Goodness, I'm rambling like mad. Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you guys enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

 _"Ugly people kill people all the time. But when pretty people did, it got attention."_

—Chelsea Cain

* * *

Ember sat on the kitchen island stool, scribbling her own original poem onto a lined sheet of paper when the front door suddenly swung open.

The woman jumped in shock at the abrupt noise, her gaze fixated on a rather disheveled Joker as he strut into the house. His left hand was in his hair, right hand clutched around a gun as he delicately placed it onto the counter.

"Joker?" Ember raised a brow, her legs swinging from the stool as the pen toppled messily onto the floor. She approached him quickly, her face only inches from his as she watched him hungrily lick his lips.

"Uh, _yes_?" He purred, smacking his lips together as his gaze lazily met hers.

"I-I wanted to apologize for—"

But she never was able to finish her sentence.

In a fraction of a second, Ember found herself pinned against the wall, Joker's fingers laced tightly around her throat as her eyes widened in fear. Her vision eventually steadied, previously blurred by the sudden contact of the wall against her skull as she began to tremble.

The woman squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to watch what the madman would do to her as she awaited the sound of the blade clicking into place.

However, that sound never came.

Instead, Ember's brows furrowed in confusion as the unexpected feeling of wet lips met hers. The hold on her throat released, his fingers gently cradling her jaw as he pried her frozen lips open with his.

Her eyelids fluttered open, the blurred image of Joker's painted face pressed against hers filling her vision. She finally responded to his prying lips, allowing his tongue access to her mouth as he sighed in relief.

Ember eventually molded into his desperate embrace, her chocolate tinted eyes closing once more as her hands cradled his jaw. The familiar taste of greasepaint filled her senses, her tongue lapping out to caress that wishbone shaped scar underneath his bottom lip as a throaty grunt toppled into her mouth.

Nothing seemed to make sense in that jumbled mind of hers... Only several hours ago, he'd broken her nose with a harsh punch to her face. Now, he viciously attacked her lips with his, nearly swallowing her whole as his body flattened against hers, pressing her further into the wall. His hips bucked forward to meet hers, his gloved hands trailing agonizingly slow down her torso as they halted over her bony hips.

Ember let out a gasp when his fingers circled around her hip bones, applying a bit of pressure as he simultaneously slipped his tongue into her mouth. Her brain went fuzzy with gratification as her bony fingers laced in his oily curls. It was wild, really, how he literally broke her fucking nose, and here she stood, kissing him like nothing had ever happened.

That was, until his lips became a bit more eager, and his nose painfully swiped against hers, a cry of pain tumbling from her mouth. Instead of pulling away, Joker took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into her open mouth, swallowing her cries of pain as his gloved hands swiftly cupped her face.

"I'm _sorry_." He murmured against her swollen lips. A collection of goosebumps littered her flesh, her heart fluttering in her chest at the foreign, husky words that fell from his mouth.

"It's alright." She assured him, her eyes fluttering open to meet his worrisome gaze, masked by the smeared black paint as her thumbs grazed over his bottom lip.

"It's alright." Ember repeated lowly, pulling his face to hers once again as she hungrily kissed him.

Horton entered the kitchen, his eyes immediately widening at the sight before him.

Joker and Ember stood against the drywall, Ember's slender body adjacent to the wall as he flattened his along hers. Her fingers were tangled and twisted in his green hair, his hands slightly lifting her shirt from her body as his gloved thumbs traced circles along her bare hips. Horton's heart painfully clenched in his chest when his gaze suddenly met their faces, which were attached to one another by wide open mouths, tongues dancing about as they practically fucking inhaled each other.

 _It was fucking disgusting._

Horton grimaced, their breathless sighs and the smacking of their lips against one anothers nearly made him vomit. If there was any visual he could erase from his mind, it would be this one. He'd never, ever seen Joker like this... _ever_.

If anything, the only evidence of Joker being... intimate with someone that Horton knew of, was the occasional woman that would walk out of secluded rooms with the Joker. Always in public, however. Never, ever did Joker bring someone into this house, unless he intended on employing them, or killing them.

Ember, apparently, was the exception. And it was fucking _bullshit_.

Horton crashed back to Earth when Joker's dramatic purple coat slipped from his shoulders, sliding down his arms with ease at it pooled at his feet. A violently ill feeling settled in his belly at the sight, Joker's lips suddenly detaching from Ember's as he peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw and onto her neck. Trails of white and red paint smeared along her skin, her head lulling back along the wall to allow the man more access to her neck.

Horton immediately excused himself from the room, ensuring that the pair hadn't heard him exit. The henchman immediately ran towards the hallway bathroom, emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl as he choked back sobs.

How fucking _pitiful_ was he? Here he was, a twenty-seven year old man, helplessly in love with his boss, who was also the fucking Joker. A twenty-seven year old man who was currently crying in the u-bend, vomiting from mere jealousy as the love of his life swapped spit with some random whore.

It wasn't fair.

Ember's eyes shot open at the sudden sound of Horton getting sick in the bathroom.

"Joker." She stammered, pressing the palms of her hands firmly against his chest in an attempt to push him off. However, he wasn't quite finished with her yet.

He took her skin between his teeth tightly, pressing himself further into her to trap her against the wall.

A gasp fell from her lips, her hold tightening on his curls as she tugged at them harshly. The action emitted a groan from the madman, his face slumping against her neck as his lips detached from her skin.

 _He likes getting his hair pulled?_

Curious at what he'd do, Ember pulled at his curls once again. Joker grunted vehemently, his fingers digging deeply into her sides as he practically crumbled in her embrace.

 _She found his weak spot._

" _Fuck_ , Em." Joker hissed, reattaching his lips urgently to hers, when the sudden sound of Horton emptying his stomach once again into the toilet bowl interrupted them.

"We should check on Horton." Ember said, pulling her lips from his as he sighed in annoyance.

"Are you _fucking_ kid- _ding_ me." Joker grunted, pulling his electrified frame from hers as he trembled with anticipation. She'd found his absolute weakness, and now he couldn't contain himself. He needed some type of relief...

"I'm sorry, Joker." Ember stammered, wiping the back of her hand against her mouth to rid her skin of the greasepaint. However, she merely spread it around more, making her appear only more rediculous.

Ember swiftly left the room, abandoning a severely frustrated Joker as he fisted the sides of the granite counter, desperately trying to ward off the homicidal thoughts that bombarded his mind.

 _Don't kill her, don't kill her, don't kill her..._

"Horton?" The woman cooed, rounding the corner as she found herself standing behind the broken blonde boy in the ratted hallway bathroom.

Joker's henchman briskly stood to his feet, his eyes glowing red as he wiped excess bodily fluids from his lips.

"Oh, uh, hi." He croaked, closing the lid of the toilet as he took a seat on top of it.

"Everything okay?" Ember politely inquired, lounging against the frame of the door as the man avoided her gaze.

"Just not feeling well." He lied.

Ember opened her mouth to speak, but nearly had a heart attack when a strange object whizzed past her ear, sinking deeply into the wall only centimeters next to Horton's face as he paled.

The woman craned her neck, her gaze meeting an extremely disgruntled Joker several feet away. His leather gloves had been removed, and he'd rolled up the sleeves of his solid purple dress shirt, his miscellaneous tattoos on full display.

"Re- _member_ what I told you, _Horton_?" He thickly spoke, not even waiting for a reply before brushing past Ember and making his way towards his bedroom.

Horton loudly gulped, his neck twisting to view the blade that sat sunken into the drywall, barely missing his head.

"What the fuck was that?" Ember cried, mortified by the fact that she'd almost witnessed Horton take a knife to the face.

"Boss told me not to interrupt you two. Guess I should learn how to listen."

* * *

" _So_ ," Joker smacked his lips, spreading the blueprints smoothly along the counter as he circled the area. "Grim and- _uh_ , our little _clowns_ will have the bombs plan- _ted_ already, while you and I dist- _ract_ the lovely workers."

Horton and Joker crowded around the kitchen island, lowly mumbling plans to one another when Ember snuck into the room.

"What are you guys doing?" She prodded, her arms crossing as she slowly approached the men.

Both of them craned their necks, shooting her a standoff-ish glance as neither of them replied. Instead, they both turned back around, openly discussing the plans as if she wasn't even present.

Ember shifted in her spot, peeking over Joker's broad, hunched shoulders to try and get a peek at what they were looking at.

She's always been nosy, and it was something that Noah absolutely hated about her. One time, she suspected him of talking to another woman, so she snooped a bit through his phone. However, she was proven incorrect when she found nothing, and Noah ended up ignoring her for a solid seven days.

Joker turned on his heel, eyes darkening as Ember slowly backed off.

"St- _op being_ so nosy." He growled, his fingers lacing around the waist of her shirt as he tugged her tiny frame to his.

Ember let out a slight squeak, her chest colliding with his as Joker's lips crashed against hers. The woman let out a sigh, her lips parting to allow his tongue access into her mouth.

He was a very open-mouthed kisser, she'd noticed. It was as if he couldn't stand just a typical kiss, his tongue always had to be in her damn mouth.

 _Not that she was entirely complaining..._

However, the recent influx of random bursts of affection was throwing her off quite a bit. The worst part was, she welcomed him with open arms, and an open mouth.

Just as she fisted her fingers into his hair, he abruptly pulled away, her lips immediately craving the feeling of his as he stepped away.

"Un- _less_ you- _uh, plan_ on coming, fuck _off_."

Ember's features brightened, her chapped lips tugging into a smirk as she nodded.

"Okay!" She cheered.

Joker raised a painted brow, his neck craning backwards to steal a glance at a quite puzzled Horton, who merely shrugged.

"You- _uh, want_ to _come_?" Joker chuckled, lounging his back against the island counter, the blueprints ruffling beneath his coat as he folded his hands.

"Yeah. Better than being couped up here, right?" Ember nervously spoke, a strand of dyed blonde hair held between her index finger and thumb as she rotated it in place.

"Boss—" Horton started, but immediately silenced when Joker raised a purple gloved hand.

" _No_ , Hort. Le- _t_ her _come_." Joker persisted, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as Ember shyly wiped away the paint on hers.

"You- _uh_ , all ready to _go_ , baby girl?" The man cooed, his voice transforming into the haunting high-pitched tone as Ember quickly nodded.

"Yes! All ready!"

"Let's- _uh, go_." The clown muttered, stuffing his favorite vibrant switchblade into his coat pocket before stepping towards the door. Horton took one final look at the blueprints before beckoning Ember to follow them with the wave of his hand.

The woman excitedly followed, walking with a slight skip in her step as they exited the building. Joker pranced along the deep cracks in the pavement, a low chorus of " _da-dums_ " falling from his scarred lips as he walked.

 _He was quite the character._

She grinned as a blob of purple hopped enthusiastically into the dark van, his arms grasping onto either side of the open door as he propelled himself into the vehicle.

Ember giggled, following shortly behind him as she lifted her knees and crawled in behind him, taking her spot on the bench directly beside him.

Joker raised a brow at her choice of seat, his pink tongue creeping out to wet his lips as he stirred beside her.

"You're- _uh, not_ gonna si- _t_ on the floor?" He joked, his hand dipping into his coat pocket to retrieve that favorite knife of his. Ember stilled as he flicked it open with the pad of his thumb, delicately twirling it between his fingers.

"No." She breathed, her arm hesitantly darting out to claim his knee.

He instinctively jerked away at the sudden contact, a shallow breath hitching in his throat.

Ember's expression fell at his reaction, her hand slowly returning to her leg as he cleared his throat gaudily. Apparently, he only liked to be touched on his own accord.

"So," Ember began, Horton settling into the front seat as the van began to tumble down the rocky dirt path. "Are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

Joker avoided her soft gaze, still twirling the blade between his gloved fingers as his foot tapped irately against the bold green floors of the SUV.

"We're go- _ing_ to blow _up_ the Gotham Stock Ex- _change_." He muttered dismissively.

Ember's jaw fell at his statement, her heart nearly stopping in her chest at the idea of the stock exchange going up in flames.

Her adoptive mother worked there.

"Joker," Ember stammered, her hands beginning to shake as he simply grunted in response. "M-My Mom works there."

A deafening silence fell over them, Horton's staggered breaths erupting from the other side of the seat as Ember shifted further away from the madman.

"I _know_."

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Horton steered the van swiftly through Gotham's evening traffic, muttering several profanities at the idiots who cut him off before announcing their arrival.

The henchman retrieved a familiar plastic clown mask from the passenger seat, outstretching the strap with his fingers as he placed it over his face.

Joker handed Ember a similar mask, with a different clown face imprinted on the front. Her heart hammered heavily in her chest, quickly flipping the plastic over to avoid the eerie face printed on the front.

"You want me to wear this?" She murmured, toying with the elastic strap as Joker merely grunted in response, again.

"Jus- _t_ put it _on_ , toots."

Ember shakily obliged, placing the mask over her face. Her sharp breaths filled in the mask, heating it up a bit as she immediately felt a sense of clausterphobia set in.

"J-Joker—"

"Follow Hor- _ton_." The man announced, shuffling through a nearby black gym bag as Ember's legs wobbled towards the now open door on the side of the sleek van.

"But I don't want to leave your side." She spat. Horton's fingers laced around her bare wrist, tugging her from the vehicle as Joker's hunched frame disappeared from view.

The pair scurried around the side of the building, a dozen clown masks coming into view as a muffled cry fell from Ember's lips.

"Knock it off." Horton scolded, still clasping tightly onto her wrist as they approached the abundance of men.

"Everything ready?" The henchman called, his voice deeper than normal as several clowns nodded.

Ember cowered against the white brick wall, her heart painfully hammering against her ribcage as several men glanced puzzled in her direction.

"Is that a _girl_?" One of them spoke, clearly taken aback by Joker's choice of employee.

"That's none of your concern. She's with me." Horton pressed. "The boss will walk in through the front doors in eight minutes. I expect everything to be in place when he does. This can not go wrong, got it?"

The clowns simply nodded, some a bit enthusiastically as Horton dismissed them, isolating himself and a severely shaken Ember once more.

"Are they all going to die? Like the bank robbery?" She squeaked, clearly remembering Joker's infamous bank heist more than half a year ago, where he killed off every single one of his helpers without remorse.

"Some of them, yes." Horton blandly explained. "Come on, we need to get in position. Remember how to use a gun?"

Ember stilled, shaking her head as he thrust a quite heavy assault rifle into her arms.

"Good. The safety is on, so you'll be fine. Just hold it, okay?"

"Okay." Ember whispered, repositioning the gun in her arms as she lazily slung the strap over her shoulder.

 _What the fuck had she gotten herself into?_

Horton lifted his left wrist into the air, shuffling the sleeve of his jacket down his arm as his watch came into view.

"Three minutes. Let's go."

Ember struggled to keep up with the man, the gun slapping against her leg as she ran behind him.

They eventually rounded the corner of the pale building, several screams emerging from surrounding individuals as they swiftly climbed the steps.

" _Ready_ , toots?" A voice hissed in her ear, causing her to jump in fright as the gun nearly slipped from her grasp.

Joker followed closely on her heel, his gloved hand resting on the small of her back as a gun sat firmly in his opposite clutch.

"Show _time_!" He exclaimed, thrusting the dark glass doors of the establishment open as he opened fire, the gun pointed upwards.

Ember flinched beside him at the noise, her palms beginning to profusively sweat as she closely followed behind Horton and Joker.

A chorus of screams filled the air, hundreds of individuals immediately falling to their knees, most of their heads buried in their legs as Joker let out a sinister cackle.

"Goo- _d_ evening, ladies and gentle- _men_."

The building grew hauntingly quiet, the sound of Joker's heeled shoes clicking aimlessly against the tile echoed as he made his way towards one of the many circular desks.

Sure enough, Georgia DeLoughrey sat at that very desk, her perfectly manicured hands held up in surrender as she blinked away tears.

Ember's blood ran cold at the sight of her adoptive mother, who sat cowering in her swivel chair as Joker paced around the desk, paying no mind to the woman.

Joker smacked his lips intently, his feet coming to an abrupt stop beside the trembling woman as he stole a glance at Ember. She shook her head, biting down so roughly on her bottom lip that she tasted blood.

"Georgia, is _it_?" The clown spat, his hand claiming a nearby chair as he rolled it towards him, taking a seat directly beside the older woman as she began to openly sob.

"H-How do you know me?" She cried, avoiding his horrifying painted face as she kept her shaking hands held in the air.

"Joker—" Ember squeaked, his eyes darting upwards to glare warningly at her before disregarding her comment entirely.

"Never- _mind_ tha- _t_ , doll. Say, why don't yah _tell_ me a- _bout_ your job." He mused, resting the gun sideways across his legs as Georgia eyed it worriedly.

"I-I s-s-sell stocks—" She severely stuttered, but cried outward in angst when Joker's sinister laughter suddenly echoed throughout the establishment.

"You _rip_ people off, Georg- _uh_." He thickly announced, his gloved hand claiming the womans jaw as Ember's blood began to boil.

She honestly shouldn't feel sorry for Georgia. The woman, along with her husband Evan, had acted as if Ember simply didn't exist anymore. It was beyond fucked up.

"You ru- _in_ peoples _lives_." He added, applying pressure to his hold as she cried outward in pain.

"You ruined _my_ life." He lowly spat, so quietly that only several surrounding people, including Ember, could hear him.

"Joker!" Ember scolded, her voice wavering as he continued to ignore her. Georgia's vibrant eyes darted in her direction, recognizing that little voice immediately as her heart swelled.

 _Ember?_

Ember flinched when the Joker pried his grasp from Georgia's face, lifting himself from the swivel chair as he backed up towards her, stealing an additional glance. This time, he shot a reassuring wink in her direction.

" _So_ ," He boomed, twirling the gun aimlessly around in the air as passerbys ducked to avoid possibly getting shot at. "I have a _gen-er-ous_ offer for you all!"

No one spoke, no one moved. The air was stale, silent with anticipation as Joker loudly smacked his lips in content.

"I'm- _uh_ , going to _save_ you all from this _joke_ of an _e_ - _stab-lish-ment_." His scars tugged into a mocking grin, his gaze flickering around the large room as people awaited the ending of his statement. " _That_ is, if you can ge- _t out_ in time."

A sudden uproar filled the void, a giggle falling from Joker's lips as approached a shaking Georgia once more.

"Joker, stop!" Ember exclaimed, darting forward to capture the shoulder of his coat in her hands, but it was too late.

"Sorry 'bout your _luck_ , darlin'." He sarcastically cooed, lacing his fingers into Georgia's hair before expeditiously slamming her face into the wood of the desk, knocking her out cold.

A cry left Ember's lips as Horton tugged on her sleeve, urging her to leave the premises as Joker's haunting laughs bounced off of the walls.

"M-Mom?" She cried, her hands gripping onto Georgia's shoulders as she forcibly shook her. The woman did not wake.

"Thirty seconds." Horton thickly announced, dragging Ember through the crowd of distressed employees and customers as Joker merely laughed, shoving past worried individuals as he slid through the cracked front door.

Ember paused at the threshold, her gaze lingering on an unconcious Georgia at her desk as people shoved violently past her, Horton's grasp leaving her arm.

"I'm sorry, Mom." She whispered, slinking through the shattered glass door as the ground began to shake beneath her feet.

With wide eyes, the woman glanced backwards at the building, halting in place on the creme colored steps as violent flames ingulfed the building, sending a wave of heat in her direction as a sudden blast knocked her clean off her feet.

Ember flew several feet forward, her body landing against the road like a ragdoll as her skull painfully collided with the cement.

A cry tumbled from her lips as her vision blurred, propelling her into a deep pit of darkness.

* * *

 **A/N:** I just want to clarify that in this story, the events that take place in The Dark Knight Rises do not occur. So, yes, this is the very same stock exchange that Bane causes quite an uproar at in the movie, but that storyline does not exist in this book.


	20. XX

_"Sometimes, the best way to help someone is just to be near them."_

—Veronica Roth

* * *

Ember woke with a start. Her head was pounding, and her slightly trembling fingers had discovered a slight bump present on the left side of her forehead. Her eyelids flickered open, adjusting finally to her surroundings as she scrambled upwards in the bed.

Instead of seeing the typical white walls covered in red lipstick and fine poetry, she stared wide-eyed at four green walls, all littered with oozing red "HA"s. A sliver of sunlight entered the room, courtesy of the kink in the blackout curtains.

She pulled the purple comforter up to her chin, her hand unintentionally brushing against her nose. A grunt of pain escaped her lips as thick tears brimmed in her eyes.

 _Oh, right. Joker broke her fucking nose._

It was several moments later that the woman realized that she was, in fact, not alone in Joker's bedroom.

Her neck craned to the right, half of her vision buried into the pillow as she glared in the direction of the open bathroom door. The routine sound of running water came from the shower, masked by a cloud of steam and a withered yellow shower curtain.

Ember shifted her position, putting her weight on the right side of her body as she steadily studied the swaying shower curtain.

Suddenly, a rather glorious sound resonated through the air, sending an array of goosebumps along the skin of her arms as it met her ears.

The Joker was singing.

Ember shifted forward in the bed, as if moving an inch closer would somehow make the words clearier. Unfortunately, all that she could really catch were several words, the rest masked by the rumble of the shower.

From what she could gather, it sounded as if the man was singing "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You" by Frankie Valli, but she wasn't one-hundred-percent certain.

Regardless of the fact, the tone of his voice was quite deep, unlike his typical clowny speech. If this wasn't his bedroom, she wouldn't even think that it was actually the green-haired man singing behind that curtain.

Ember was broken from her slight trance when the sound of the water discontinued. She watched with wide eyes, barely blinking as if she'd miss something if she did.

A hand reached out from the side of the closed curtain, retrieving a familiar mocha tinted towel from the counter as it disappeared from sight.

The curtain opened with a _shing_ , the yellow plastic bunching together against the side of the shower as her eyes widened.

Joker brought the towel to his face, which was free of any greasepaint. It was a sight she'd seen before, but was still mesmerizing to see. Under all of that gaudy makeup, he was truly gorgeous— scars and all.

Ember's breath shallowed as the towel dangled perfectly in place, concealing his — _package_ — as he swiftly dried his bare skin of the water.

Just as the woman prepared herself to finally blink, the towel swayed a bit too far to the left, revealing a bit too much of him to her as she desperately attempted to contain a squeak.

Her little show, however, was cut short when he wrapped the towel around his waist, the material clinging lowly onto his hips as Joker ran a hand through his drenched flourescent curls.

She quickly squeezed her eyelids shut when his soft brown gaze flickered in her direction.

 _Fuck. She was a total creeper._

Joker inhaled deeply as he admired Ember's lax figure on the bed. It had been two days, and he could admit that he honestly missed her. Seeing her unconcious twenty-four-seven was a bit boring and slightly concerning.

He merely sighed, his gaze meeting the reflection in the mirror as he inspected the scars that marred his face. With a simple lick of his lips, his hands darted outwards to claim the nearby circular container, untwisting the lid as he promptly dug his pointer finger into the bright white greasepaint.

The pad of his finger met his destroyed cheek, coating the flesh with white paint before dipping his finger back into the container and repeating the action.

Ember lay in the bed, her breaths short and jagged as Joker applied his infamous makeup, his towel covered torso leaning against the counter as he massaged the paint into his face.

What seemed like ages later... _not that she was entirely complaining_... Joker finished applying his greasepaint, his lanky fingers coated in the colorant as he rinsed them under cool water, ridding his skin of the excess paint.

Her eyes squeezed shut once again when he twisted on his heel, exiting the bathroom as he inaudibly murmured something under his breath.

Ember gradually peeked through her left eye, Joker's hunched frame wiggling into a pair of black slacks as his slim fingers fiddled with the button. His chin rest against his neck, creating an illusion of him having a "double chin" as his jaw lay slack in concentration. Beads of water dripped from his curls, rolling elegantly along the dips of his collarbones and onto his broad chest. She practically salivated at the sight of him.

The woman watched in awe as he rummaged through an ebony stained dresser parallel to the bed, retrieving a honeycomb checkered black and grey dress shirt from the drawer. Ember silently observed as he dipped his arms into the material, pulling the shirt up his shoulders as he promptly adjusted the collar before buttoning it up and concealing that toned stomach of his.

Next, came a vibrant purple tie, which glided between his fingertips with ease as he laced the material around his neck.

 _Who knew that the Joker could make something as simple as getting dressed look so damn sexy._

"Look who- _ah, decided_ to wake _up_." A cheeky voice interrupted Ember's thoughts.

She blinked several times, her cheeks immediately growing hot as Joker eased his palms into his pant pockets, an amused grin plastered on his painted face as he stood beside the bed.

"S-Sorry," she stammered, shifting upwards in the bed so that her back rest against the uncomfortable poles of the headboard. "I promise I didn't see anything."

"I wouldn't've _cared_ if yah _did_ , sweet hear- _t_." Joker cooed, inching closer to the bed as his left arm tore from his pocket, outstretching to claim Ember's forehead.

She stilled beneath his sudden touch as his callused thumb gently caressed the bump on her head, that habitual pink tongue lapping out to trace his scars as he did so.

"How you- _uh, feeling_ , Em?" He huskily whispered, the pad of his thumb gliding along her cheek as it eventually grazed over her pouted bottom lip. His eyes were masked by the darkness, both the room itself and the paint, but Ember could clearly tell that he was eyeing her mouth.

"My head hurts like a bitch," she revealed, his touch leaving her face suddenly as her hand instinctively darted outwards to claim his. "And my nose is still broken."

An amused sigh escaped Joker's nostrils, his fingers gliding across hers as he cozily laced his longer fingers between her shorter ones.

"I- _uh, have_ something that'll help your _head_ , if you wan- _t_ it." He said, tearing his fingers from hers almost as quickly as they'd come together as she merely frowned.

"Okay." Ember nodded, sinking back into the bed as Joker flashed her a genuine toothy grin before exiting the room with hunched shoulders.

She molded into the mattress once again, her head pulsating in pain as she desperately tried to remember how she'd even hurt it in the first place.

 _Did she fall and knock herself out when Joker broke her nose?_

Joker returned several minutes later, a syringe in hand as he walked with a slight skip in his step, kicking the door closed with his heel as Ember flinched from the noise.

"Alrigh- _t_ , toots. This'll help _reeeeal_ goo- _d_." He muttered, plopping into the bed at her feet as she flinched slightly.

"A needle?" She gulped, pulling the thick blanket up to her neck as she cowered away from him.

Joker raised a painted brow.

"Don't te- _ll_ me you're _afraid_ of _needles_." He groaned, inching towards her on the bed as she pulled the blanket up over her mouth and nose, attempting to almost hide from him as he merely chuckled.

"Don't be such a _pussy_." Joker playfully mocked, hooking his bare pointer finger around the blanket as he peeled it from her face.

"What's in it?" Ember whispered, lowering the blanket as Joker manuevered himself on the bed, somewhat straddling her waist as he retracted an electric blue elastic band from his pocket.

"Always asking _so_ many _questions_." He murmured, roughly taking her left arm in his grasp as he placed the syringe between his teeth.

Ember kept her lips sealed, watching intently as he wrapped the band around her upper arm, tight enough so that her veins began to pertrude.

"Joker—"

"Hol- _d_ this." He thrust the end of the band in her direction, instructing her to hold it tightly against her arm as he removed the syringe from his teeth.

"B-But—"

"Fu- _ck_ , Em." He harshly scolded, his dark gaze meeting hers as she continued to hold the elastic in place. "D'yah wan- _t_ the pain to _go away_?"

"Yes." She lowly spoke.

"Then shu- _t it_."

Ember's heartbeat accelerated as he poked and prodded at her inner bicep with his cold fingers. Once he found a vein that he was completely satisfied with, he injected the needle into it without warning.

She hissed in response, her jaw going slack as her arm painfully throbbed.

With gentle fingers, Joker urged her to let go of the band, unwrapping it from her arm as he discarded both that and the empty syringe onto the bedside table.

His hips still straddled hers, an amused grin tugging at his scarred lips when a sudden sense of euphoria overcame the woman underneath him.

Her eyes rolled back in her head at the abrupt sensation, an overall feeling of immense warmth filling her veins as she shuttered beneath his hips.

" _Nice_ , ain't it?" He slurred, feeling somewhat jealous that he wasn't experiencing the same high that she was. If him and Horton didn't have plans in twenty minutes, he would've shot some up as well.

Ember's eyes fluttered closed, her body becoming limp under him as she molded into the pillows. An odd, somewhat heavy feeling traveled to her extremities, her toes curling in satisfaction as she went completely lax.

Joker climbed off of her lap, collapsing on the bed next to her as he propped himself up on his elbow. Even in a drug-induced state, Ember looked absolutely beautiful.

Her eyes were screwed shut in pleasure, soft breaths escaping through her partially cracked lips as her hands traveled to her hair, tugging at the greasy, grown-out strands as his fingers traced lightly along her pertruding jaw.

"I _told_ you I'd take the pain _away_ , baby." He whispered.

Ember dipped in and out of consciousness, her lanky fingers lacing in Joker's dampened curls as she curled her hand into a fist, lightly tugging on his hair as he throatily groaned.

Joker lulled his head back, bolts of electricity shooting down his spine as Ember continued to tug on his hair.

"Em, fuck- _ing_ stop _it_. Otherwise, I'm- _uh, going_ to take you righ- _t_ here, right _now_." He growled, desperately trying to ward off the naughty thoughts that littered his brain as her fingers detached from his ringlets.

 _Bummer._

An odd sense of weight fell over Ember's arms as they collapsed onto the pillows above her head. The pain in her nose and head dissipated immediately as she let out a moan of content.

" _Fuck_ , Em." Joker hissed, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her jaw as she stirred pleasantly beside him. "You look _so_ fucking sexy _right_ now."

"Joker?" She giggled, twisting sideways to face the madman as his scars curled upwards on his face.

" _Yes_ , darling?"

"Did you give me heroin?"

Joker let out a sincere chuckle, peppering an additional round of feathered kisses along her jaw and neck as he merely hummed in response.

"Are you _complaining_?"

"No," Ember defended, the warm, fuzzy feeling drifting away as she simply fell into a sedated state in his arms. "I don't feel any pain. I feel great."

" _Goooood_." His hands cupped her cheeks as he pulled her lips to his.

That comforting taste of fresh paint filled her mouth, her tongue immediately darting out to meet his as they both sighed in unison.

"How did I hurt my head?" She mumbled against his lips.

Joker hastily pulled away, the white paint on his forehead crinkling when he furrowed his brows in confusion.

"You don't- _uh, remember_?"

"No." She confessed.

Joker propped himself up on his elbows, his mind reeling as he contemplated telling her the truth, or lying straight through his stained teeth.

She didn't remember that he killed her mother.

"You- _uh_ , had an _accident_." He vaguely revealed.

Ember raised an eyebrow.

"What kind of accident?"

Joker removed himself from her tiny frame, sitting up on the edge of his bed as his back faced her. She sleepily laid in her spot, a hand coming into contact with his broad, clothed shoulders as she rubbed circles on the small of his back.

"You came with on a lit- _tle_ —Er— _excursion_."

Ember's eyes widened.

She went on a heist with the Joker and his men?

"And?" She pried.

"And _nothing_. You fell and hi- _t_ your _head_. Out col- _d_ for two _days_."

Ember's lips curled into an "o" shape, clutching the blanket close to her chest as she settled down from her temporary euphoric state.

"So, why did you not put my in my own bed?"

Joker craned his neck, stealing a glance at her over his shoulder as he blinked several times.

"I want- _ed_ to make sure you- _uh_ , didn't _die_ on me, toots."

The duo went silent. The sound of Joker smacking his lips in anticipation filled the void as Ember spat out a rather idiotic response.

"Why would it matter if I did? You kill people all the time, why am I the exception?"

"Be- _cause_ ," He drawled, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as he avoided her prying eyes. "You're my _Ember_."

 _His Ember._

"And you're my Jackson." She whispered.

The name felt foreign falling from her lips, and even Joker was caught a bit off guard by her response. She hardly ever called him by his birth name, mainly because Jackson simply did not exist anymore.

But to her, he did. He always would.

"Lay back with me." Ember pressed, her fingers lacing around the sheer fabric of his shirt as he audibly sighed.

"Em, I have to _go_ soon, doll."

"So lay back with me until you do." She sleepily insisted.

Joker finally obliged, swinging his legs onto the bed as he molded into her tiny frame. Ember pressed the side of her face against his chest, reveling in the consistent thumping of his heart against her skull.

"You're so comfy." The woman whispered, toying with the purple tie around his neck as Joker's had rest comfortably on her left shoulder.

"Can I- _uh, ask_ you something, baby?" Joker cooed, tracing circles against her bare shoulder with his fingers as she nodded curtly against his chest.

"Why _didn't_ you ca- _ll_? Or _write_?"

Ember lifted her head from his chest, shooting him a puzzled glance as his gaze met hers.

"I did! You never wrote me back or returned my messages."

Joker's heart plummeted in his chest.

 _Fucking Evelyn._

"Em, I—"

"Evelyn never gave you my letters or phone messages, did she?" Ember squeaked, her chin resting on his chest as his tongue routinely darted outward.

"No- _pe_."

The pair lay silent for several moments, staring longingly into one anothers eyes as Joker traced miscellaneous designs on Ember's bare shoulder.

"I'm sorry I called you a freak before. You're not. You just scare me." She admitted.

Joker snorted, leaning his neck forward to place a soft kiss on her forehead before swinging his legs to the side and shuffling out of her prying grasp.

"It's _okay_ , doll. I- _uh, should_ scare you." He stated, winking flirtatiously in her direction before readjusting his electric tie and fixing his disheveled curls.

"I trust you with my life." Ember muttered, curling into the blankets once more as a severe sense of drowsiness overcame her.

Joker simply pat her leg, a smile clinging to his lips as he exited the room, isolating Ember as she drifted into a deep slumber.

He was so inexplicably fucked.

* * *

 **A/N** : I know, I know... a bit of a sappy snooze fest. However, these chapters are essential for character bonding development.

ALSO, the shower scene was totally inspired by Heath's scene in the movie "I'm Not There" (if you havent seen it, I recommend! You totally see his dinga-ling and its the best thing ever lmfaooo)

I totally died imagining him getting dressed idk why but that would be an amazing sight to see.


	21. XXI

Bewaaare, it gets very MATURE this chapter ;)

* * *

 _"In other words, I tasted a different drug. A drug called progress."_

—Cameron Conaway

* * *

" _Careful_ , toots."

"Sorry." Ember murmured, removing her knee from that delicate spot on his groin as she feverishly reattached her lips to his.

Joker lay entrapped beneath her, his curls sprawled outward against the violent purple pillow as Ember's manicured fingers naturally laced into the ringlets.

A throaty moan tumbled from his scarred lips, seeping into her mouth as her tongue lapped out to meet his.

" _Em_ ," Joker breathed, his bare fingers gripping firmly onto her hips as she breathlessly grunted in response.

"Ge- _t_ _off_ for a sec, will yah?" He murmured, rolling the tiny woman off of him as she sighed in defeat.

"But I wanna keep kissing you." She whined, her tone resembling that of a pissed off child as she visibly pouted.

Joker's tongue routinely darted outward, caressing his swollen lips as his thumb swiped against her pouted lower lip.

"Don't _pout_ , toots. I've- _uh_ , got a _bit_ of a _surprise_ for you." Joker mused, his lips curling into a develish grin as he pressed a firm kiss to her open mouth.

"What kind of surprise?" Ember giggled, toying with the faded green curls at the nape of his neck.

Joker shifted his weight onto the petite woman, pressing his hips against hers as his rugged fingers traced patterns along her jaw.

"D'yah like _shopping_?"

"What girl doesn't?" Ember smiled, bucking her hips upwards to emit a reaction from the painted-face man. She heartily grinned when Joker's black holes for eyes squeezed shut, his jaw falling agape as he let out a deep groan.

" _F-Fu-ck_ , Em." Joker stuttered, pressing his palm flatly against her hip to push her back down onto the mattress. "Stop _it_."

"Sorry." She grinned, pressing a soft kiss to his makeup smeared jaw as she wiggled out from underneath him.

Joker slid aside to allow her to exit, collapsing onto his side on the bed as Ember readjusted her lace top.

"So, what's the surprise?"

"You and- _uh, Horty_ are going shopping." Joker blandly stated, picking at his nails as the woman paced the dark, dingy bedroom.

"Buy yourself something _nice_." He drawled, swinging his legs from the bed as he swiftly stood. Before Ember could reply, his arms had snaked around her waist, his chin resting firmly on her bony shoulder as he peppered light kisses along her neck. "I- _uh, want_ you to wear _it_ when you come ba- _ck_. Go- _t_ it?"

"Got it." Ember whispered, pulling his arms closer to her torso as she squeezed lightly.

"He's wait- _ing_ outside whenever you're _ready_ , doll."

"Okay," Ember whispered, craning her neck to place a kiss to his closed lips before tugging away from his grasp. "I'll be back."

"I'll be _here_."

After stealing several additional kisses, Ember finally stumbled from Joker's bedroom, snapping the vibrant purple door closed on her heel as she made her way towards the front door.

Although she'd prefer to go shopping with the Joker, she knew quite well that he couldn't just nonchalantly strut into a shopping mall without being bombarded by the GCPD.

It was almost disgusting, really, how sappy he was with her. She knew that it was rare, but when he got in those cuddly moods, she was an absolute goner. However, those moods weren't quite as often as she wanted.

Sometimes Ember forgot who the man she swapped spit with truly was. Even though to her, he was the Jackson she fell madly in love with fifteen years ago, to everyone else, he was a psychopathic murderer. It was quite shocking how someone so violent could be so gentle with her.

Horton sat on his mobile phone in the SUV, his bottom lip pouted outward as he bounced his leg impatiently. Joker had told him to expect Ember thirty minutes ago, and yet, he still sat by himself in the vehicle, the engine groaning as it continued to run idly.

 _Hopefully they weren't fucking._

Just as Horton began to painfully imagine Joker and Ember together, the front door swung open, revealing a giddy Ember as she skipped along the severed path.

He grunted in discomfort when the passenger door swung widely open, the small girl propelling herself into the vehicle as she flashed him a toothy grin.

"Hey, Horton." She politely greeted, the door slamming shut as she strapped herself into the seat.

"Hi." He blandly replied, throwing the gear shift into drive as he avoided her giggling self. "Did Joker tell you where we're going?"

"Shopping!" Ember cheered, as if she were a teenage girl. Sometimes it truly baffled him that she was a few years older than himself, mainly because she didn't act her age at all.

The pair sat silently beside each other, Horton weaving between traffic as Ember twiddled her thumbs.

"Do you think Joker'll let me get a new phone? Since I'm technically not a hostage anymore?"

Horton licked his lips, his gaze fixated on the road as Ember fell silent once more.

"What makes you think that you're not his hostage anymore?"

Ember shot the henchman a puzzled glance, her brows knitting together in confusion as he simply shifted in his seat.

"What does that mean?" She snipped.

"Well," Horton began, brushing the stray blonde hairs from his eyes. "You can't leave. I'd call that a hostage situation. Have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?"

Ember openly scoffed at his statement.

"Stockholm Syndrome?" She sneered, crossing her arms tightly across her busty chest. "Do you honestly think I fell for my kidnapper?"

"Well, considering you can hardly keep your hands off of him, I'd say so." Horton shrugged.

"I've known Joker since we were toddlers, jackass."

A stale silence littered the air as Horton's blood ran cold.

 _What?_

"H-How the fuck—?"

"We grew up together. He was, uh, my first love." Ember lowly rambled, her gaze focused on the busy streets outside the car window as Horton felt suddenly very ill.

 _She wasn't just a random whore after all._

"So that's why he didn't kill you. Interesting. When's the last time you saw each other? You seemed to really hate him and not even recognize him before." Horton stated, curious to know the full story behind Ember and Joker. Of course, he was madly jealous, but it would help if he knew more details. Plus, he was quite interested to know if the Joker had always been a bit off his rocker.

Ember sighed, tugging at a loose strand on her jeans as strands of faded, outgrown blonde waves tumbled into her vision.

"We lost touch when we were fifteen. He didn't have the facial scars, and he didn't talk like he does. He's not even the same person, to be honest."

"What's his real name?" Horton spat, his heart racing beneath his ribcage as his knuckles turned white against the steering wheel.

A smile smeared across Ember's lips, her hand darting upwards to claim several strands of hair as the name tumbled from her lips.

"Jackson."

A warm, tingly sensation traveled throughout Horton's body at the sound of Joker's real name.

 _It was beautiful._

"I-I like it." He stammered.

Ember simply smiled.

"Me too."

The duo sat in a comfortable silence as Horton finally pulled the vehicle into the parking lot of a rather expensive boutique.

"Jesus," Ember observed, craning her neck to get a better view at the elegant sign. "I can't afford anything at Santana!"

"Good thing Joker can." Horton smiled, thrusting the car into park as he unlatched his seatbelt, signalling to her to follow.

Ember scrambled out of her seat, tripping over the loose laces of her Converse as Horton circled the SUV.

"We need to find you a nice dress."

* * *

"Thanks for taking me shopping today, Horton." Ember grinned, adjusting the strap on her brand new pale pink sundress.

"No problem, Ember. I'm glad you found some new outfits." Horton genuinely grinned, halting in front of the familiar cracked sidewalk as the woman shot him a questioning glare.

"You're not coming inside?"

"No." Horton said shortly, licking his lips intently as she unlatched her seatbelt. "Got stuff to do for the boss." He added.

"Oh." She whispered, wrapping the sleek black shopping bag around her wrist as she thrust the passenger door open. "Have fun."

"I'll try."

With a final goodbye, Ember collected the last of her things and slammed the door closed, the van peeling away from the sidewalk as she slowly exhaled.

 _What was Joker up to?_

A small sigh escaped her plump lips as she turned on her heel, strutting towards the front door as the frilly dress slapped lightly against her upper thighs. The style of the dress made her look twenty again, and she couldn't entirely complain. She was getting damn old anyways, it was refreshing to look younger than she actually was.

Her fingers laced around the circular metal knob, twisting tightly as the front door clicked open.

A sudden scent of cinnamon filled the womans nostrils, her brows raising in curiosity as she entered the building.

Once inside, Ember's jaw fell slack, the shopping bag nearly toppling from her weak grip as she viewed the scene before her.

The once disheveled home had been tidied up, the kitchen free of any clutter or dirty dishes as nearly a dozen lit cinnamon scented candles lined the island counter. The typical artificial lighting of the room was replaced by the candlelight, the flames dancing about on the walls as a circular table clad with a blood red tablecloth sat in the center of the room.

The plastic bag pooled at her feet, her breath hitching in her throat when the glorious sound of her absolute favorite style of music filled her ears.

 _Oscar fucking Peterson?_

"Are you still into _jazz_?" A husky voice called from behind the woman.

Ember's neck snapped backwards, her eyes widening as she blinked several times, as if the image before her would magically disappear the more she did.

"J-Joker?" She squeaked, her gaze raking his figure as he lounged against the doorframe.

Joker's clean face brightened, his scars tugging upwards into a grin as he stuffed his hands into his pant pockets.

The trademark makeup was gone, not a lick of greasepaint present on the mans features as his soft, brown eyes admired her tiny frame.

 _She looked flawless._

"Ca _-t got_ your _tongue_ , toots?" He playfully teased, his pink tongue lapping outward to trace the destroyed flesh of his left cheek.

His slightly faded green locks were slicked back, pulled into a small bun at the bottom of his skull as he stupidly smiled in Ember's direction.

Her identical hued eyes raked his form, appalled by his choice of outfit. He wore sleek black slacks, complimented with white pinstrips. His torso was clothed with a deep purple dress shirt, the sleeves rolled sharply at his elbows as black suspenders clung to his shoulders, clipping onto the front of his slacks by metal clips. A tie was not present, which was unusual for the theatrical man. However, Ember practically salivated at the sight of the top three buttons of his shirt, which lay unbuttoned, displaying the small patches of hair that littered his chest.

" _Geee-zus,_ " Joker drawled, tearing his right hand from his pocket as his thumb rubbed circles against the scar of his lip. "You- _uh_ , gonna _say_ somethin', sweet pea?"

"I-I'm sorry," Ember stuttered, her voice failing her as her knees began to slightly wobble. "Joker, you look so handsome."

If it was even remotely possible, a periwinkle blush crept onto the mans scarred cheeks, his chin dipping downward to conceal the color as he avoided her shocked expression.

"Uh, _thanks_. Yah don't look too ba- _d yourself_."

"I didn't know you liked jazz." Ember awkwardly stuttered, shuffling towards the round table in the center of the kitchen. Her eyes raked over the dining set that lined the table, decorative plates on each side as she let out a snort.

"Si- _t_." Joker politely ordered, approaching the table with two large strides as his paint-stained hands gripped onto the chair, tugging it backwards as he offered Ember a seat.

"Thanks." The woman mumbled, smoothing down the back of her dress as she took a seat in the stained wooden chair.

Joker circled the table, plopping downward into the chair across from hers as his features became illuminated by the three candlesticks that sat placed in the center of the table.

Joker's widened pupils trailed her shivering frame, his elbow resting on the table as he tugged his bottom lip between his index finger and thumb.

Ember watched with wide eyes as the man tugged his scarred bottom lip outward, squeezing it together as he toyed with the skin. His gaze still lay glued on her, hardly blinking as he merely studied her.

"What?" She blushed.

"You loo- _k stunning_." Joker observed, his lip snapping back into place as he smacked them together.

Those damn ticks of his.

"Thanks, Joker." The woman smiled, her fingers tugging at the hem of the tablecloth as the instrumental music in the background sent shivers down her spine.

" _Jackson_." He breathed, retrieving a bottle of wine from the island counter as he lifted from his seat, filling both of their glasses with an even amount.

"Jackson." Ember lowly repeated, the name slipping blissfully off of her lips as she reveled in the sound of it.

 _Her Jackson._

Who the fuck was this man, and what had he done with the Joker?

"So, uh, what are we eating, Jok–Jackson?" Ember stuttered, shifting uncomfortably in her chair as the clown raised an eyebrow.

"D'you- _uh, like_ fettuccine _alfredo_?" He wondered, his scars broading when the word "like" tumbled from his lips.

"You can cook?" Ember raised a brow.

"My Mom _taught_ me qui- _te_ a few things, Princess." Joker winked, rising from his chair once more as he slunk towards the kitchen. He returned moments later, a pot full of noodles in his hands.

"Damn. That smells really good." Ember complimented, her tongue darting outward to lick her lips when he scooped a spoonful of cheesy noodles onto her decorative plate.

"Wha- _t_ can I say?" Joker gloated, piling noodles onto his plate before returning the pot to the stove. "I'm a _man_ of many _talents_."

Ember's fingers laced delicately around the base of the wine glass, bringing the liquid to her lips as she slowly swallowed.

"Wow," she gulped, lowering the glass once again as Joker took his seat. "That wine is amazing."

" _One-hundred_ dollars, baby." He winked, taking the fork between his fingers as he began to twirl noodles around the metal.

"You shouldn't have—"

" _Anything_ for you, toots." He calmly interrupted, slurping several noodles between his lips as Ember merely chuckled.

Her stomach swam with the soothing tone of the piano in the background as she slowly forked noodles into her mouth. Although the meal was very, very good, Ember food herself slowly losing her appetite. Typically, when she became anxious, her mild eating disorder would spike up and she'd immediately lose any desire to eat.

"Don't _like_ it?" He calmly wondered, his knee bouncing in and out of view of the table as he, too, became rather anxious around her.

 _What was wrong with him?_

"No, it's lovely. This is totally going to sound pitiful, but around my eighteenth birthday, I sort of developed a bit of a food aversion." She explained, her cheeks growing hot in embarrassment.

A sympathetic expression captivated Joker's features as he placed his fork neatly onto the table.

"You- _uh_ , have an eating dis- _order_?"

Ember merely nodded, her appetite dissipating entirely as she slowly placed the fork onto the table, mirroring Joker's actions.

"It's _okay_ ," He cooed, his arm darting outward, weaving between the lit candlesticks as his hand captured hers. "You _don't_ have to ea- _t_."

"It tastes amazing. I really do love it."

His thumb slowly traced her palm, a shaking breath emerging from her lips as her questioning gaze met his.

"What happened to you, Jackson?"

"What happened to you, _hmm_?" He countered, raising a brow as he took a long sip from his wine glass.

"What do you mean? I'm exactly the same." Ember pressed, but Joker only chuckled in response.

"No you're _not_. Time has _changed_ us _both_."

"Is the story you told me about your scars true?" Ember squeaked, the visuals of a teenage Jackson, the Jackson she knew, being mutilated made her rather ill.

" _Yes_." He bluntly stated, staring deeply into her orbs as a sense of warmth overcame him. She truly made him sane, and it was both a good thing and a bad thing. He craved insanity, he craved death and destruction and above all, he craved blood. But in addition, he also craved her.

"You thought the baby was yours?" She whispered, a strange sense of jealousy overcoming her at the idea of him being with anyone other than her. Not that she could be jealous anyways, considering she was married to Noah.

" _Yes_."

He did not elaborate.

Ember decided not to ask any further questions, even though she was nosy as hell and desired to know every single aspect of his life. However, she had a strong sense that both the woman and her child were dead, most likely by his own hand.

After several wordless minutes, the only sound was that of Oscar's enchanting piano keys, Ember finally spoke up once again.

"How many girls have you been with?"

At this, Joker heartily grinned, his index finger brushing against his lips as he furrowed his brows.

"Interesting _question_ , doll." He teased.

"Just answer the question, Jackson." She urged, crossing and uncrossing her legs several times in discomfort.

"How- _uh, old_ are we, toots?"

"Thirty." She breathed.

Joker leaned backwards in his chair, thrusting his hand into the air in response.

Ember practically whined at his answer, her expression drooping as she avoided his suspicious gaze.

"Before or after your, uh, disfigurement?"

"Two before, yourself includ- _ed_." He calmly explained, bouncing his leg irritably. "Wha- _t_ can I _say_? Chicks _dig_ the _scars_."

A snort resonated through Ember's nostrils, her nose twinging slightly in pain as Joker's lips curled into an identical grin.

"Five, yourself included." She said.

" _Girls_?" Joker teased, his left foot accidentally brushing against Ember's underneath the table. Her heart fluttered at the innocent gesture as a sincere laugh tumbled from her lips.

"No. Boys only."

" _Y'know_ ," Joker began, hunching over the table. His elbows caught onto the cloth, wrinkling it slightly as it bunched up beside his plate. "I can't _believe_ you _trust_ me."

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Ember breathed.

"Be- _cause_ ," Joker sighed, his gaze settling upon a sharp steak knife as the woman shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "I could _kill_ you so _easily_. You wouldn't even put _up_ a _fight_."

"But you won't." She pressed.

Joker raised an eyebrow, that damn pink tongue caressing his lip as Ember's mouth went dry.

"What are you afraid of, Jackson?" Ember added, copying his stance as her bare elbows met the table. The man stilled under her sudden touch as her palms met his.

"Noth- _ing_." He spat, his scars broadening.

Ember openly scoffed, tearing her hands from his as she merely rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious, Jackson. Tell me your fears. You can be open with me. I'm your Ember, remember?"

Joker's breath hitched in his chest, his eyes trailing downwards towards the familiar silver chain around her neck.

" _Fear_ creates _weakness_."

"It's okay to have a weakness." Ember argued.

" _Oh_?" Joker challenged. "And wha- _t_ is _yours_ , toots?"

"You."

The air immediately stilled. The only sound present was that of Oscar Peterson's melodic piano in the background.

"I wish you would be more open with me." She finally spoke, a look of immense hurt flickering over her features as Joker tugged his elbows from the table.

"I'm- _uh, not_ one to easily open _up_ , doll."

The duo shared several additional awkward minutes, filled with an uneasy silence as Ember shuffled backwards in her seat.

"Uh, thanks for dinner. It was lovely."

Joker watched as she rose from her chair, twisting slowly on her heel to exit the room as he abruptly stood. His left knee caught the table, the plates clinking loudly together against the surface as he scrambled to meet her.

"Em," He stammered, his voice becoming uneasy and short as he breathlessly met her side. "This is- _uh_ , not how I _intended_ tonight to go."

Ember glared quizzically at the man, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as his chest practically heaved.

"Alright? How did you want it to go then?"

Joker toyed with his left suspender, his breaths becoming jagged as his scars twitched slightly. He knew quite well how he intended tonight to go, but he was somewhat fearful that Ember would not be particularly fond of the idea...

"Jack—"

Ember's back abruptly met the wall, an all-too-familiar scenario as her skull slightly collided with the drywall. Several stars littered her vision as an urgent pair of lips met hers, gentle hands darting upwards to cup her face.

Joker pried her stubborn lips open with ease, his frame towering over hers as he flattened himself against her. She was so tiny, and she molded perfectly into him. It was as if they were made for each other.

"You- _uh, talk_ too much." He lowly spoke, the words vibrating against her lips as her head spun.

"And yet, you're the one talking when we should be kissing." Ember snidely countered.

Joker's scars tugged upwards into a hearty grin, his eyes squinting from smiling so large as his open mouth reattached to hers.

The pair exchanged satisfied sighs, breathlessly swallowing each others soft moans as Joker's grip tightened on her cheeks. His right thumb steadied on her jaw, tugging the skin downwards as he pried her mouth open. Ember obliged, lips parting further as his tongue met hers in one solid motion.

Ember's fingers traveled up his neck, coming into contact with the firm bun at the nape of it as she grunted in dissastifaction.

" _Hmm_?" Joker hummed in confusion, his inquiry immediately answered when the womans fingers curled around the rubber band in his hair.

Ember tugged diligently at the rubber, snapping it cleanly in half as his slicked curls fell free. The snapped band tumbled from her grasp, toppling to the tile floor as his viridescent ringlets instantly framed his face.

A low groan emerged from his bare swollen lips at the sudden sensation of Ember's hands in his hair.

The woman toyed with the loose strands, twisting and turning them between her fingers as she teasingly tugged.

Joker tore his lips from hers, burying his nose into the crook of her neck as she tugged harder.

Ember let out a surprised squeak when the mans teeth unexpectedly clamped down on the flesh of her neck.

"You- _uh, want_ to play _games_ , toots?" The clown growled, his deep voice vibrating against her skin as she merely shivered in response.

"I'm not one for teasing." She murmured, taking a single suspender between her fingers before prying it from his torso.

"Nor am _I_."

Joker's hands hooked underneath the frail womans knees, tugging her legs upwards with ease as she let out an enthusiastic giggle.

"Someone's _eager_." She teased, pressing sporatic kisses to his jaw as her back suddenly left the wall.

"You have _no_ idea." Joker grumbled as Ember locked her lanky legs behind his back.

The woman continued to giggle as Joker shuffled towards the circular table once more, swiftly removing the lit candlesticks as he discarded them on the kitchen island. She clung to him like a leech, arms wrapped firmly around his neck as his forearm came into contact with the contents of the table, swiping them quickly to the side as the glass shattered against the floor.

Ember let out a yelp at the noise, her eyes widening at the mess of food and wine on the tile as Joker dropped her onto the surface.

Her coffee-colored orbs trailed the mans figure as he detached himself from her. Joker's green curls were thrown astray, messily framing his makeup-free face as he intently sucked on his bottom lip.

Ember brought her elbows upwards on the table, balancing herself so that she could get a better view at the man who began to undress between her legs.

Joker tugged at his suspenders, sliding them down his arms with ease as they lay lax against his legs. His gaze never once left hers, hardly blinking as his fingers ripped at the buttons on his shirt, popping them open as he unveiled that toned chest of his.

She profusely giggled at the sight, both amused and equally turned on at his eagerness as the very last button on his dress shirt came undone.

Just as Joker was about to slide the material down his arms, Ember reached outward, claiming the silk between her fingers as she immediately tugged it back up his shoulders.

"Keep it on."

Joker raised a brow questioningly before immediately resuming his actions.

His fingers trailed downwards, claiming the button on his slacks as he yanked it open.

Ember shuffled against the rickety table, hooking her index fingers around the lace of her panties as she tugged them down her legs. Just as she as about to tear the sundress from her torso, Joker's hands met hers.

" _Keep_ it _on_."

Joker dipped downward, capturing Ember's lips with his as he shrugged out of his slacks. His paint-stained fingers hooked around the flesh of her legs, tugging her further towards him as she let out a shriek.

That sound alone was enough to send him into an absolute frenzy.

He trailed sloppy kisses along her jaw, dipping into her neck as she squirmed beneath him.

"Fucking _squirmer_." He stated, removing his hand from her leg to free himself from his boxers.

A vehement groan tumbled from Ember's lips at the sudden contact between her legs. Joker sucked diligently at her neck, leaving behind violent purple bruises as his fingers brushed against her burning core.

It was as if it were the very first time he'd touched her. The feeling back then was indescribable, and even more so now. The moment he laid a single finger on her most delicate spot, her senses immediately came alive as she practically convulsed beneath him at the initial touch.

" _Fuck_ , Em." Joker throatily groaned against her neck, his pointer finger curling upwards as he began his gentle assault between her legs. "You're fucking _dripping_."

"I-It's been awhile." She sheepishly admitted, her eyes screwing shut in ecstacy as Joker continued his agonizingly slow assault against her.

"For me _too_."

Ember let out an additional low groan when his tongue suddenly met hers once again. The glorious feeling of his wondrous fingers left her burning core, a whine of annoyance tumbling from her lips as he silenced her with his.

"So _impatient_." Joker lowly scolded, cupping her jaw with one hand as his opposite gripped tightly onto her hip. Ember's periwinkle dress bunched at her hips, half of her ass dangling off of the table as Joker held her upright.

Just as the woman opened her mouth to speak, an audible gasp escaped her lips in the place of words as Joker bucked his hips, entering her in one fluid motion.

Several things happened at once.

Ember, for one, had forgotten how to breathe entirely. The air cleanly escaped her lungs as her hand knotted tightly into Joker's hair, the opposite clawing at the tablecloth as her back arched in immediate pleasure.

Joker, on the other hand, had squeezed his eyelids shut tightly, avoiding Ember's erotic expression in hopes that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't fucking come after two thrusts.

After all, it had been nearly a year since he'd done anything at all with a woman.

His nose brushed against hers, eyes still screwed shut in angst as Ember practically crumbled beneath him. Although she preferred that he just get to it, it had been awhile since she'd had sex, and she rather appreciated this time for her to adjust to him.

Joker's hand traveled from Ember's hip to her thigh, his palm cupping the underneath of the skin as began to rock his hips gently against hers.

A chorus of moans erupted from each individual, blending together to create a delightful tune over the piano that still played in the background.

Ever since their first (well, second first) kiss, Ember had imagined how this scene would play out. Fucking on a dining room table in the candlelight accompanied by Oscar Peterson's music definitely didn't cross her thoughts.

 _Not that she was complaining._

Ember's hold tightened on his hair, twisting the knotted ringlets between her fingers as deep groans resonated through the mans chest.

Joker's fingers dug into the skin of her leg as he struggled to contain himself. His thrusts were already growing sloppy, his chest heaving as Ember let out an array of undeniably sexy moans beneath him.

" _God_ , it feels so good." Ember whined, her fingers lacing around the fabric of his shirt as she balled her hands into fists.

"F- _Fuck_." Joker groaned, straightening his posture as his lips finally left Ember's neck.

She practically drooled at the sight of him. His head lulled backwards, scarred lips parted in euphoria as a slight blush crept onto his cheeks. That damn adams apple bobbed up and down in his throat, accompanied by throaty groans as his palms claimed her hips, gripping firmly onto the flesh as he used them for better leverage.

His eyes twisted tightly shut, brows furrowed together as Ember quickly remenisced on that time she'd accidentally walked in on him. He had the exact same stance that day, his damn neck laying limp as he inched closer and closer to his high.

Ember let out a small yelp when his thumb suddenly came into contact with the spot where they lay connected, a plethora of passion overcoming her as she began to see stars.

"I'm gonna—" She stammered, but was interrupted by a long, deep groan from him.

The duo came undone simultaneously, the woman writhing in ecstacy against the wooden table as she arched her back in pleasure, a sudden warmth filling her as Joker let out a gasp.

" _Damn_ , baby." He huskily groaned, pulling out of her swiftly as he peppered open-mouthed kisses along Ember's trembling jaw.

"We're going to be happy." She breathed.


	22. XXII

_"The ache for home lives in all of us. The safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned."_

—Maya Angelou

* * *

"Any threes?"

"Go fish."

Ember sighed, shifting forward in her seat as she retrieved a fresh card from the deck. The blood red tablecloth still clung to the circular wooden table, rows of extinguished cinnamon candles lining the island counter as Horton chewed his bottom lip.

"Any fives?" The henchman wondered, his gaze glued to his hand of cards.

Ember eyed her two fives, her chapping lips pulling into a frown as she maneuvered them from her hand and tossed them across the table.

Horton simply snickered in response, his pudgy fingers closing around the corners of the cards as he added them to his stack.

"Do you have a seven?" The woman groaned, leaning back in the seat as she irritably tapped her foot. Her eyes trailed over the table before her, the very same one that Joker had fucked her on just last night. She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks at the thought of it, butterflies erupting in her belly as Horton raised a brow.

"Go fish." He murmured, slightly confused by the cheerful expression plastered on the womans makeup-less face as she let out a groan.

"I'm total _shit_ at card games." Ember complained, tearing her back away from the chair as she snatched up a new card.

She tore the flimsy laminated paper from the heaping stack, flipping it over to view it when her heart immediately plummeted.

A joker card sat in her grasp, her breaths growing jagged as she immediately found herself missing the painted-face man.

"What is it?" Horton wondered, but his question was answered the moment the front door swung open.

The door nearly swung off the hinges, colliding with the already destroyed drywall as Grim stumbled into the house. Horton and Ember's eyes widened when a thrashing individual lay draped over his shoulder, his fists colliding with Grim's back as he shouted for mercy.

Grim and the unknown man disappeared from sight, most likely on their way to the very first room Ember lay in as she awaited her possible death that first night.

An abundance of purple finally entered the premises. The womans heart nearly burst from her chest at the sight of him, dressed cleanly in his trademark attire as he kicked the door closed with his heel.

His paint was messy, a smear of black sat several inches above his eyebrow as several sploches of skin on his chin and forehead were shining through. The red Glasgow grin was smearing, the paint seeping into the deep cracks and crevices of his scars as his dark eyes met Ember's.

"Joker?" She whispered, the cards toppling from her clutch as she darted upwards from the chair.

Her brown gaze settled upon the switchblade in his gloved clutch, glistening with fresh blood as he smacked his lips irately.

" _Later_ , toots." He firmly stated, shuffling past her as he abandoned the room.

Ember and Horton exchanged puzzled glances, the stack of cards in his hands colliding with the tablecloth as he merely sighed.

"Want to go get coffee?"

"Huh?" She questioned, shifting her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"C'mon. Hurry. You don't want to be here when Joker has someone in that room."

"But—"

Ember's heart plummeted when the haunting sound of desperate cries for help reverberated from behind a closed door. The screams crescendoed into sobs, accompanied by a blood-curdling laugh that sent chills down her spine.

"Come _on_ , Ember!" Horton begged, his thick fingers lacing around her wrist as he tugged her from the room, the front door concealing the screams that resonated throughout the house.

Ember's heart lept into her throat, an intense feeling of nausea flooding through her as she clambered into the SUV. Horton observed as she shakily latched her seatbelt, diverting her gaze to the deteriorated home as the engine roared to life.

"I know he's... different... with you, but trust me, Ember. You don't want to see him like that, or be around him." Horton kindly explained, tearing the vehicle away from the house as Ember's eyes followed the building.

"But I've seen him do violent things. I've seen him kill Bleaker—"

"From what I gathered, he didn't torture Bleaker. He just killed him. It's the torture that fucks you up the most. It's not something you want to see or hear, and it can go on for hours."

Horton ended up bringing Ember to a Starbucks down the road.

The café was small, and the duo was able to snag an unoccupied petite table in the back corner.

"You seriously drink just regular black coffee?" Ember scoffed, taking a rather large sip from her straw.

"Yeah. I don't need any of that flavored bullshit, I'm content with a regular cup of coffee." Horton said, his gaze diverting towards the small television in the corner as he instantly scoffed.

Gotham's infamous Bruce Wayne stood behind the camera, speaking to a woman in regards to something about Wayne Enterprises.

Ember's eyes also met the television, her chest tightening at the sight of Gotham's richest man as she sunk lower in her seat.

"Hey, Hort?"

"Huh?" The man grunted, still fixated on the screen as Ember stirred her iced vanilla latte.

"Wanna know a little secret?"

Her statement caught the portly mans attention. Horton diverted his gaze, twisting in his seat to face the woman as she chewed mindlessly on her lip.

"I fucked Bruce Wayne."

Horton's jaw dramatically fell, his eyes wild as he struggled to formulate a sentence.

"Bull- _shit_." He chuckled, but Ember merely shook her head, crossing her arms as she leaned backwards in her chair.

"I swear I did! We went on several dates, actually. Slept together maybe seven or so times? When I was twenty-four."

"Holy shit," Horton gaped, glancing backwards at the television before returning to Ember's amused expression. "You had a sugar daddy!"

A snort vibrated through Ember's nose, the skin prickling slightly in discomfort as she sniffled in response.

"Not exactly. He didn't really buy me much, besides dinner."

The two exchanged awkward chuckles, silently sipping their drinks before Ember finally broke the timid silence.

"Have you ever been in love, Horton?"

The blonde man instantly froze, his breaths growing shallow as Joker's face instantaneously clouded his vision.

 _God, he was so perfect._

Ember markedly raised a brow, running her lanky fingers through her unwashed artificial blonde locks as they flowed evenly past her breasts.

Horton captured the empty paper cup in his shaking grasp, twisting the material in circles against the table as he avoided the womans prying stare.

"Yes." He finally breathed.

Ember folded her arms on the table, her lip tugged between her teeth as she studied the plump boy before her, who practically quaked in his chair.

"Jesus, dude. Whoever she is, she really must have quite the effect on you. Why don't you tell me about her?"

Horton's jaw fell agape, words failing him as he desperately attempted to push Joker's taunting face from his brain.

A shrill ring of a mobile phone diverted him from his thoughts, a sigh of relief tumbling from his thin lips as he thrust his meaty hand into his pant pocket.

"Hello?" He croaked, pressing the phone firmly to his ear. An alluring voice filled his ears, the hairs on the back of his neck immediately shifting upwards as it sent shivers down his spine.

"Hoooor- _ty_." The voice cooed, an array of goosebumps littering the mans flesh as he stirred in his seat.

Ember arched a brow perplexedly, the pad of her thumb stroking her lip as the man practically squirmed in place.

"He-Hello, boss." Horton quivered, his tone low and uneasy as he scanned the café for any possible onlookers.

"Where's my _girl_?" The clown growled, the wonted sound of Joker's lips smacking together traveled through the receiver. Horton virtually salivated at the glorious sound.

"I took her to get coffee, sir. We're leaving right now." The henchman stammered, signalling for Ember to rise from her seat with a simple nod of his head.

Ember stood from her chair, collecting her half-empty cup of iced coffee as Horton's foot caught on the leg of his chair. The woman stifled a giggle when he tumbled forward, the phone nearly toppling from his grasp as he struggled to catch it.

"Horton? Can we run to the store really quick?" Ember chirped, chasing after the portly man as he shuffled out the door.

"For what?"

 _Uhhhh... Plan B because Joker may or may not have came inside of her...?_

"...Feminine products?" The woman said.

Horton scowled, shaking his head from side to side as he crawled into the drivers side of the SUV.

"Okay, okay. That's fine. We need to hurry, though. I don't want the boss getting pissy."

The duo silently drove to a nearby CVS, Ember's foot tapping irritably as Horton found a parking spot right up front.

The man unlatched his seatbelt, ripping the keys from the ignition as he let out an audible sigh.

 _Someone's in a shitty mood..._

Horton entered the building with several large strides, the woman struggling to keep up behind him as he headed in the direction of the feminine care products.

 _She didn't need a damn babysitter_.

"Uh, I actually need to see the pharmacist."

Horton raised a blonde brow, his lips zipped shut as Ember brushed past him and made her way towards the back of the store.

Before he could catch up, Ember knicked a box from a nearby shelf, glancing over her shoulder to ensure that he hadn't seen.

 _That would be an awkward conversation._

An elderly woman stood behind the pharmacy window, a pair of light teal glasses pressed up against her face as she typed away on a computer.

Ember quickly requested the morning after pill, occasionally glancing at Horton over her shoulder. The portly man shuffled through nearby shelves, glancing several times in the stiff womans direction as he browsed through several bottles of pills.

After what seemed like an eternity, the old woman slid a pack underneath the glass window, a stern expression plastered on her face as Ember mumbled a simple "thank you" and stuffed the box deep into a plastic bag.

"Ember?" A voice squeaked.

The woman froze in place, her eyes widening at the familiar sound.

 _Fuck_.

"Holy shit, you're _alive_? We all thought you fucking died or something, you literally like fell off the face of the Earth—" Redheaded Sarah scrambled, a jet black leather purse clinging to her arm as she abruptly thrust her arms around Ember's neck.

Horton gawked at the women, his heart thumping erratically in his chest as Ember shot him a worried glare.

"Uh, hi, Sarah." Ember stammered, hesitantly wrapping her arms around the immensely freckled girl.

Redheaded Sarah worked with Ember at the boutique, and always seemed to have a bit of a strange obsession with the woman. Although, when Noah died, Sarah seemed to be the only person who actually cared. She'd bring Ember small gifts to work for a solid month straight.

"How are you holding up?" Sarah hesitantly wondered, unlacing her frail arms from Ember's shoulders.

"With what?" Ember pried, a brow raised as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her neck slightly craned downward to meet Sarah's gaze.

"Oh, y'know..." Sarah murmured, avoiding Ember's piercing gaze. "With the whole Joker thing?"

The air seemed to escape Ember's lungs entirely, her jaw held ajar as Sarah ogled her questioningly.

"C'mon, don't make me say it." Sarah lowly spoke, inching closer towards a frozen Ember.

"It's almost like the guy is targeting you, or something. First he kills your husband, and then your mom—"

An inhumane noise slipped through Ember's lips, her chest growing tight as she nearly collapsed from Sarah's statement.

 _Her mom?_

"W-What?" The artificially blonde woman gasped, her right hand grasping onto the cool metal counter to steady herself.

"It's so fucked up, really. Who just decides to blow up the stock exchange? And a hospital?" Sarah spat, rambling on and on as Ember suddenly felt very, very ill.

 _When the fuck did Joker blow up the Gotham Stock Exchange?_

"S-Sarah," Ember stuttered, her legs violently shaking as she swallowed the thick bile that rose in her throat.

Redheaded Sarah's words ceased, her chocolate brown eyes widening as she observed the sickly expression plastered on Ember's face.

"Where've you been, Em?"

"I-I have to go, Sarah."

Before the girl could respond, Ember had shoved past her, flagging Horton down from a nearby aisle as she propelled herself in the direction of the front door.

Ember ended up emptying the contents of her stomach onto the road in the parking lot, her palm gripping onto the side of the SUV as Horton openly scoffed.

"You okay, kid?" He grumbled, the familiar clink of the car keys being pulled from his pocket made the hairs on the back of Ember's neck stand tall.

"Just not feeling well." She swiftly lied, slithering into the passenger seat as the CVS bag fell limply into her lap.

Ember couldn't help but tremble the entire way back, her knees tucked into her chest as her forehead rest against the window. Her lanky arms sat wrapped around her legs, her heart hammering against her ribcage as Horton silently drove beside her.

The Joker killed her husband and her mother.

When they finally tumbled down that familiar dirt path, Ember immediately unlatched her seatbelt before the vehicle came to a complete stop.

"Emb—" Horton began, but was greeted by a door being slammed in his face.

Ember darted toward the front door, the handles of the plastic grocery bag wrapped around her elbow. Her gaze settled upon an inky garbage bag beside the door, littered with smeared blood as her stomach turbulently turned. She really didn't want to know what was inside that damn bag.

Luckily, Joker was nowhere in sight as she scurried into the house. The path to her bedroom was a clear shot, her legs wobbling as she clutched the CVS bag to her chest.

Ember spilled the contents of the grocery bag onto the mattress, her breaths coming out in pants as she fumbled with the glued flap of the morning after pill package.

A shriek escaped her lips when a strong pair of hands gripped onto her hips. Joker's chin claimed her bony shoulder, emitting a strangled sigh from the woman as his apparent excitement came into contact with her lower back.

"Hiya, _doll_." The painted-face man purred, his fingers digging into her clothed skin as he purposely pressed himself against her back.

Only an hour prior, he'd brutually murdered a man whose name he did not know, and he was a bit aroused by it, to say the least.

Ember shrugged out of his grasp, completely disgusted by the man at the moment as she shuffled the pill from the box.

Joker's gaze settled upon the tiny white pill that now sat in Ember's hand, his painted brows raising in curiousity as he intently stared.

"What's- _uh, that_?"

"Morning after pill." Ember grumbled, prying from his grasp as she snatched a half-drank water bottle from the bedside table.

Joker readjusted himself, tucking his noticeable excitement into the waist of his pinstripe pants.

" _Oh_." He mumbled, his tongue routinely darting outward to wet his lips as he stuffed his paint and blood stained hands into his pockets.

Ember tossed her head back, swallowing the small pill with ease as Joker quietly observed.

His jaw fell agape when a paper box collided with his chest, toppling to his feet as his eyes widened.

" _Condoms_?" He gawked, a snort vibrating through his nose as he nudged the box with the toe of his shoe.

"Yeah. The morning after pill is expensive, and unless you want a bunch of little clown babies running around, I suggest you wear condoms." Ember said, her voice low and monotone as she avoided him entirely.

His expression fell at the mention of babies... their babies... running around the house giggling. Oh, what a sight that would be...

"I'm- _uh_ , not really a _fan_ of condoms." Joker shrugged, bending his knees to retrieve the fallen box.

"Neither am I, but we're just going to have to suck it up."

"I think you'll be fine if we _don't_ , toots." He pressed, sucking diligently on his bottom lip as Ember shot him a vexed glare.

"Just because I didn't get pregnant our first time, doesn't mean I'll get so lucky again, Joker."

" _Honestly_ , Em. I think you'll be fine if we- _uh_ , re- _frain_ from using _them_."

"When were you going to tell me that you killed my Mom?"

The air went stale at her proclamation.

"I- _uh_ —"

"Killed my Mom? And my husband?" Ember spat, twisting on her heel to face the madman head on. Her right hand cupped her hip, her heart racing as Joker shifted awkwardly in place.

"For the _record_ ," Joker exclaimed, his hand tearing from his pocket to wave around in expression. "I didn't know abou- _t_ your lit- _tle_ bunny, toots. He was- _uh_ , jus- _t_ in the _wrong place_ at the wrong _time_. Your _Mommy_ , however..." He trailed off, inching closer to the woman as she trembled in place.

Joker's lips curled upwards into a sinister grin, the color in his iris blackened, his left thumb tugging at his scarred lip as Ember shook in rage.

"I don't know why you're so _angry_ with me, darling. You _watched_ your Mama _die_."

Ember's jaw fell slack, her head shaking fleetingly side to side as Joker's dainty fingers cupped her jaw.

She impulsively flinched at the gesture, her chest tightening as his callused thumb traced her chapped lip.

"D'yah _need_ more chap- _stick_ , love?" He cooed, his demeanor instantly shifting as his expression softened.

 _Like day and night._

"N-No. I still have some." She whispered, wracking her brain in an attempt to remember her mothers death.

 _Nothing_.

"You _hit_ your _head_." He spoke, answering her unspoken question as he tore his hand from her face. "Tha- _t_ is why you don't remember. I- _uh, didn't_ have the _heart_ to tell you."

"Oh." The woman squeaked, diverting her gaze to the ground as she stared at her toes.

"Swee- _t_ pea." Joker cooed, his index finger resting underneath her chin as he applied pressure, urging the woman to look him in the eye.

She obliged, taking in his messy facepaint as he licked his lips once again.

"It's nothing _personal_."

"I know."

The two shared several unspoken minutes, Joker's fingers daintily tracing her jaw as she relaxed under his touch.

"Can I _kiss_ you?" He whispered, his smeared black holes for eyes boring deeply into hers as she simply smiled.

In the place of a spoken reply, Ember simply leaned forward, her arm snaking around his neck as she swiftly pressed her lips to his.

Joker groaned at the sudden contact, his lips immediately parting as his tongue darted outward to taste her mouth. He practically melted the moment her lips separated, allowing him entrance into that sweet mouth of hers. Her lips tasted of raspberries and her tongue intoxicated him. His head grew fuzzy at the contact, a sense of warmth flooding through him as he shifted into a temporary high, a high that not even the strongest of drugs could induce. Ember's kisses were like heroin, sweet and intoxicating, enough to make his toes curl.

Ember's opposite arm slinked around his neck, joining her other arm as she pressed her face harshly against his. The pair exchanged breathless sighs, swallowing the innocent sounds as their tongues danced about in unison.

Her chest pressed firmly against his, their hearts swiftly beating as one as they equally thudded against one anothers ribcage.

Joker's hands gripped tightly onto the womans hips, tugging her even closer (if that were even remotely possible) as she openly moaned in response. It was wild, really, how well they fit together. Their limbs molded together like puzzle pieces, fitting comfortably in place as if they were built to fit together. As if they were made for each other.

Ember's kisses grew urgent as she pulled his scarred bottom lip between her teeth, tugging the skin outward before releasing it, sending it back into place with a gentle pop.

"You taste like _coffee_." Joker grinned, his voice low and husky as Ember reconnected their swollen lips once again.

Joker whimpered when the womans hands fumbled with his patterned tie, her lanky fingers unraveling the fabric as it disconnected from his neck.

"You won't be needing this." She giggled, discarding the tie onto the bed as Joker smirked in response.

"I- _uh, guess_ you _won't_ be needing _this_ , then." He countered, lacing his fingers around the buttons of her flannel as he effortlessly ripped them open. Several buttons tore from the fabric, toppling to the floor as Ember's soft pink lace bra spilled out from the fabric.

"Jesus." She chuckled, glancing downward at her nearly bare torso, the silver paper plane pendant resting neatly on top of her breasts.

Joker's eyes trailed down, settling upon the silver charm as his breath hitched in his throat. The plane sat nicely between her breasts, his hand subconciously darting upwards to claim the object, his fingers grazing the skin of her breasts in the process.

Ember tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, shakily unbuttoning his dress shirt to reveal the identical pendant that sat underneath. With staggered breaths, she took the plane between her fingers, turning it over in her palm as if to inspect it.

"I still can't believe you're Jackson."

The plane toppled from Joker's grasp, his hands instantly cradling Ember's cheeks as he forcefully tugged her face to his.

Their lips sloppily met, teeth clinking together slightly as he hungrily nipped at her mouth. Paint-splattered hands tangled in her knotted locks, clinging for dear life as a wave of pleasure transcended through his body.

Ember let out a breathless sigh at the sudden feeling of Joker firm against her leg.

The destroyed flannel slipped down the length of her arms, pooling at her feet as she tore open the remaining buttons on his shirt. Her palms immediately found his stomach, fingers tracing the curves of his hips as he ferociously attacked her lips.

Her index finger slid over something abnormal, her eyes flying open in wonder as she craned her neck to look at what she'd found. Joker took her actions as an opportunity to suction his lips to her exposed neck, tugging at her locks as she studied the deep faded scar that lined his hip.

Ember tugged the sheer material down his shoulders, urging him to undress as he unlatched his fingers from her scalp. She watched in wonder as the shirt fell from his torso, colliding with the carpet as she studied the abundance of cicatrices that littered his skin.

 _How did she not notice them before_?

"You have so many scars." She dumbly observed, his lips still attached to her neck as his hands discovered the clasp of her bra.

"I'll _tell_ you _all_ about them later, darling." He assured her, his low voice vibrating against the delicate flesh of her neck.

A gasp escaped Ember's swollen lips at the sound of her bra unclipping, the material dropping from her body as her arms immediately darted upwards to cover herself.

" _Stop_." Joker scolded, prying his lips from her vandalised neck as his fingers laced around her arms, gently tearing them from her skin.

A whimper fell from his smeared painted lips at the sight of her, standing before him in all her glory. And fuck, was she absolutely mesmerizing, even more so than he'd ever imagined. Every curve, every crevice of her breasts were indescribable. He'd never been one to be fascinated by boobs, but Ember's had him absolutely dumbfounded.

"Can you stop gawking at them? They're just tits."

" _No_ ," Joker scolded, his gaze lingering on that damn necklace once again.

"They're _your_ tits."

Before Ember could reply, Joker had leaned down, his lips promptly closing around her nipple as she loudly gasped in a mixture of surprise and ecstacy.

"C-Can I lay down? My legs are shaking really bad." Ember sheepishly admitted, her fingers twisting in his flourescent curls as he chuckled against her skin in response.

Ember crawled quickly onto the bed, her knees wobbling as Joker joined her, flattening her back against the mattress as he reconnected their lips with ease.

The sound of a belt buckle clinking together was like music to her ears as she shrugged out of her shorts underneath his weight.

She glanced downward, allowing him access to her neck once more as she watched him shrug out of his pinstripe pants. Her gaze settled upon her breast, a giggle erupting from her at the sight of deep red paint smeared along the skin.

Joker's paper plane necklace collided with hers with a simple clink, easing between her breasts as his fingers began their gentle assault on her place of want.

Ember's eyes twisted shut, her jaw falling lax as her breaths grew jagged.

" _Fuck_ , Em." Joker groaned against her neck.

"Always so _ready_ for me."

Ember let out a strangled cry when he abruptly entered her, the sound muffled by the sudden interruption of his tongue as she wriggled beneath him.

Strangled gasps filled the void as his nose continuously brushed against hers, the silver chain swinging back and forth against her chest as she became enveloped in all things Joker... all things Jackson.

Her head became fuzzy and her toes curled slightly, his thumb rubbing circles against her as his name effortlessly tumbled from her lips.

Joker's chest tightened at the sound of his birth name falling from her lips in short gasps, her hands lacing in his curls and tugging like there was no tomorrow.

He let out a throaty groan, his thrusts becoming rushed and uneven as that familiar tightness bottled up in his abdomen.

"Are _you_..."

"Yes." She whispered, arching her back as a plethora of pleasure coursed through her core.

Ember yanked roughly on his matted curls, tugging his neck back with slight force as his eyes screwed shut in hedonism as he rode out his release.

Joker collapsed on top of the woman, his chest heaving as his nose sat buried in the crook of her neck.

"So much for those condoms." Ember playfully joked, struggling to regain her breath as Joker pressed a light kiss to her bruised neck.

" _Trust_ me, they _aren't_ needed."

* * *

 **A/N** : Originally this chapter wasn't going to have a sex scene but I kinda sorta got carried away, oops.

I promise there won't be smut every single chapter so please don't get turned away by it!

Anyone else cry when they remember Joker can't have kids? No? Just me? Ok.

Love you guys, thanks for always being the best! Let me know how I'm doing :) feedback is ALWAYS appreciated!

-allie .xo


	23. XXIII

_"Scars are not signs of weakness, they are signs of survival and endurance."_

—Rodney A. Winters

* * *

"What's this one from?" Ember whispered, her fingertips grazing over the slightly raised flesh above his left hip.

" _Hmm_." Joker hummed, rotating his body on the bed so that the scar would be on display. It sat cleanly above the bone of his hip, etched sloppily into the skin as it healed a light pink color. The scar was about half an inch wide, and traveled nearly three inches across the flesh.

"Some _fucker_ stabbed me on my twenty- _first_ birthday." He grumbled, maneuvering the waist of his trousers so that he could show her an additional scar underneath the pant line.

"And _this_ ," Joker began, smacking his lips together enthusiastically. "Is an _array_ of cigar- _ette_ burns in the sha- _pe_ of a _heart_."

Ember's jaw slackened, her fingers darting outward to caress the raised skin that did, in fact, resemble a heart.

"Wha–?"

"Carol- _ine_." He bluntly stated, masking the blemish with his pinstripe pants once again as he cupped Ember's jaw. "Some- _uh_ , girl I _slept_ with several times. She was ob- _sessed_ with me."

Ember switched positions against the purple comforter, bending downward to pry the waist of his pants down once again. She pressed a soft kiss to the destroyed flesh as Joker merely groaned in response.

His bare fingers laced into her hair, massaging her scalp as she continued her gentle assault on his marred hip with her lips.

"Why'd you let her burn you so many times?"

"Passe- _d_ out _drunk_. Didn't feel a _thing_."

Ember repositioned herself, her forehead grazing his as she lightly placed her palm on his bare shoulder, urging him to lay flatly on the bed.

The painted-face man raised a brow, collapsing onto his back as the scars on the his left side became visible.

Ember sucked in a dramatic breath, focusing solely on the faded wound directly underneath his ribcage.

 _A bullet wound?_

"Tell me about this one." She whispered, the pad of her thumb tracing the indented skin as Joker brought his arm upwards, claiming her jaw between his fingers.

"My _first_ injury," he reminisced, Michelle's frantic expression flooding his mind as he remembered that day very, very clearly. "My- _uh_ , Mom taugh- _t_ me how to stitch myself _up_. Some- _uh_ , good old _fashioned_ tough love."

"She sounds amazing, Joker. She was really good to you."

Joker sighed, his fingers grazing the bone of her jaw as he routinely wet his lips.

"I wasn't good enough to _her._ "

"Did you kill her?" Ember pressed.

Joker openly scoffed at her inquiry, his breath hitching in his throat at the mere idea of murdering Michelle. He'd gotten close, so close, but he never did. How could he murder the woman who saved his life?

" _No_." He spat, painted brows knit together in vexation.

"Then you were good enough to her, Joker. Sparing her life means the world."

The pair lay in a tense silence, Ember's eyes trailing over those darling tattoos of his a hand darted outwards to claim his right arm.

"Explain the Old Man River."

Joker sighed, his gaze trailing over the neat penmanship that littered his arm as Ember keenly watched.

"I dunno," He lowly began, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of her Foreigner t-shirt. "I just- _uh, feel_ like I'm _older_ than I really am, I suppose. Like, my _life_ is going by _quicker_ than I in- _tend_ for it to."

"You feel like an old man? On a river?" Ember dryly joked, her chapping lips tugging into a smirk as she cradled his white jaw in her hand.

"In a _paddleboat_." Joker mused, Ember's lips catching his in a brief, closed-mouth kiss.

The man sighed in content, his colorant-stained fingers twisting firmly into her knotted hair as he tugged her mouth back down to his when she attempted to pull away too soon.

Ember let out an amused giggle against his painted lips, her upper half resting on his bare chest as she molded into his frame.

"Joker?" She whispered, her breath fanning over his lips as an array of goosebumps littered his skin.

" _Hmm_?"

"I have a request." The woman said, her elbows resting on his chest as he craned his neck, creating that adorable double chin of his as she laughed openly at the sight.

A genuine smile tugged at his scars, his left hand burying itself into her mess of hair as he let the strands slip delicately between his fingers.

" _Fine_ ," he playfully grumbled. "I guess I'll _stick_ it in your _asshole_."

Ember's jaw fell slack, an inhumane noise tumbling from her as she faintly slapped his chest in response.

"You're disgusting." She scoffed, only to let out an enthusiastic yelp when the man tightly gripped onto her hips, rolling her onto her back as he balanced his weight on top of her.

"Oh c'mon, _toots_ ," he grinned, latching his lips onto that sensitive spot on her neck as she squirmed beneath him. "I've- _uh_ , got a bi- _t_ of a _kinky_ side. Don't _you_?"

"Yes, but that's not the discussion we're having right now." Ember politely scolded, her eyes shifting backwards in her skull when his tongue suddenly lapped out to meet her flesh.

"Joker." She strained, her palms gently pressing at his shoulders as she tugged his desperate lips from her neck.

The man groaned irritably, his head tearing from the crook of her neck to meet her gaze. The red paint on his mouth was smeared slightly, and she knew for a fact that the evidence of his lips was plastered all over her flesh.

"Since I'm not your little prisoner anymore, I was wondering if I could have a bit of freedom?" She innocently wondered, lacing her arms around his neck as he towered above her.

"Who says you're no- _t_ my little _prisoner_ anymore?" Joker hissed, dipping downward to capture her lips once more.

"Joker." Ember scolded, growing slightly annoyed by his response as he tore his lips from her face with a sigh.

His elbows rest on either side of her skull, his hips level with hers as she curled her legs around his waist with ease.

"Wha- _t kind_ of freedom, doll?"

"I don't know," Ember began, avoiding Joker's solid stare at her lips as she struggled to spit out her thoughts. "Just me time, I guess. I want to be able to go drink some coffee and read a book. Get some fresh air. Do things on my own, y'know? I can get a job—"

"You don't _need_ a job." Joker countered. "I have all the _money_ we'll ever _need_."

"You know what I mean." Ember pressed, quickly pressing a kiss to his pleading lips before resuming her banter. "I just want to feel like a normal person again."

" _Okay_." Joker shrugged, rolling off of the woman as he swung his legs off the bed.

"Okay?" Ember's heart lept into her throat, her legs beginning to wobble at the idea of finally being out in public by herself again.

Joker retrieved a discarded purple tee from the carpet, tugging it over his head as his toned chest and that familiar paper plane necklace disappeared from sight.

"I'll- _uh_ , be _back_."

Ember raised a brow questioningly.

"Where are you going?"

However, her question remained unanswered when Joker simply walked out of his bedroom door, isolating the woman. Ember sunk into the mattress, the bulky comforter enveloping her tiny frame as her eyes scanned the room.

Small slivers of light escaped through the cracks in the blackout curtains, the walls littered with bloody laughter as the blue hued screensaver on the desktop illuminated the room.

Ember crawled towards the edge of the implausibly soft bed on all fours, the comforter mangling around the bone of her ankle as she hastily kicked it off. The usual multitude of papers coated the surface of the wooden desk, meticulous doodles of Joker himself and the infamous Batman littered the pages.

The woman hovered over the surface, her feet planted firmly on the carpet as an electric purple iPod crossed her line of vision.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her slim fingers darting outward to claim the object as the screen instantly illuminated underneath her touch.

Within moments, the soothing sound of Simple Mind's "Don't You (Forget About Me)" filled the void, ricocheting off the thick walls as shivers ran down her spine.

Her eyes screwed tightly shut, a sudden memory bombarding her mind as her knees began to wobble.

Fifteen years prior, Ember and Jackson had sat in the living room of Evelyn's Orphanage late at night, isolated in front of the television as The Breakfast Club played in the background. However, the pair didn't seem to catch hardly any of the film, as they'd spent nearly the entirety swapping spit.

"Ember?" A voice called, the iPod tumbling from her grasp as Papa Roach began to blare.

Ember fell to the ground swiftly, her hands shaking as she claimed the electronic device, suppressing the music as Horton stood dumbfounded in the doorway.

"Everything alright?" He asked, brows raised and Ember still sat collapsed on the carpet.

"Y-Yes," Ember stammered, struggling to catch her breath as her hand gripped onto the desk, pulling herself up from the ground with ease. "I'm just being nosy."

"At least you admit to it." Horton chuckled, burying his bruised knuckles into his jean pockets. "The boss has a surprise for you outside."

Ember's breaths grew jagged, trembles wracking through her limbs as she contemplated every single possible "surprise" that Joker could possibly have for her.

 _Please don't be a dead body please don't be a dead body please don't be a dead body._

"You coming?" Horton called, the doorway vacant as Ember crashed back down to Earth once again. She had a very bad habit of zoning out.

Ember exited the bedroom, her fingers lacing together into a fist as her palms grew clammy.

Horton walked with a slight skip in his step, nearly mirroring Joker's walk as Ember grew rather curious. Something was rather odd with Horton, especially in regards to The Joker, and Ember couldn't help but want to pick his brain for a plausible answer.

The house was unusually hot today, or maybe Ember was just that fucking anxious about Joker's surprise that she began to profusely sweat.

"Can you just tell me what it is?" She blurted, following closely on the henchmans heel as he merely chuckled in response.

"We're literally about to walk out the door, you'll see it in half a second, if that."

Horton swung the front door open widely, stepping aside to allow Ember to exit as her heart rapped thickly against her ribcage.

She nearly fainted at the sight of Joker, leaned casually against the side of a charcoal 1982 Mustang convertible, his painted lips pulled into a broad smirk as his palms rest on the passenger door.

"Hiya, _toots_." He giddly greeted, uncrossing his boot-clad feet as his arms laced across his chest. "Whatcha _think_?"

Ember's jaw fell slack, her gaze roaming the beautiful car as she slowly approached the man laid lax against it.

"It's really, really nice."

"It's _yours_."

If it were even possible at this point, Ember's jaw lowered even further, an amused expression plastered on Joker's features as he outstretched an arm in the direction of the vehicle.

"Mine?" Ember gawked, her fingers gliding over the smooth surface of the hood as Joker eyed her intently.

"All _yours_ , baby girl."

"Oh my god! Joker!" The woman screeched, thrusting her arms abruptly around his neck. Joker stumbled backwards at the sudden contact, strands of flourescent curls tugging between her arms as she enveloped him into a hug.

"I love it! Thank you!" She added, jumping up and down in glee as she tore the set of keys from the clowns hand. "Can I go out? Just for some coffee or something?"

" _Sure_ , doll." Joker grinned, slapping a generic mobile phone into her open palm. "You answer when I _call_ , go- _t_ it?"

"Got it." Ember smiled, pressing a swift kiss to his open mouth before climbing into the vehicle.

"Oh, wait! Can Horton grab my wallet from my room before I forget?"

* * *

Freedom.

The feeling Ember felt the moment she sank into a wooden chair in the corner of a bookstore café was nothing less than bliss.

Although she'd grown to love living with Joker and Horton in the matted old house in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, the woman truly did appreciate some alone time in public.

She felt like a human once again.

Ember flipped through the old pages of a book of poetry, her fingers gliding between the wilted, yellowed pages as her gaze scanned the print.

She swallowed a thick lump in her throat when her gaze lingered over a specific page, the name E. E. Cummings scribbled in italics at the top.

 _I carry your heart, I carry it in my heart._

"Excuse me?" A small voice chirped.

Ember flinched at the sudden noise, her hand grazing the plastic cup full of her flavored iced coffee as it nearly toppled over. A middle-aged woman stood beside her table, a purse clutched to her chest as she weakly smiled.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." She rambled, taking a seat opposite Ember, who glared at her with raised brows.

"Uh–"

The woman brushed a stringy strand of light brown hair from her face, tinted slightly with a grey hue as she dropped her leather purse at her feet.

"This is going to sound absolutely bonkers, but I saw your necklace and had to approach you."

Ember glanced downward, her chin meeting her chest as she stole a glance at the paper plane pendant that rest on top of her shirt.

"I saw the poetry book and knew it was you for sure." The woman added. She looked nearly sixty, her eyes sunken slightly into her skull as deep bags cradled her bright orbs.

Ember shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the pages gliding closed as she set the book down on the table, adjacent to her coffee.

"I don't think we've met?" The young woman stated.

Mystery woman shook her hand in the air, a genuine grin plastered on her somewhat wrinkled features as she chuckled in response.

"No, we haven't. I must seem super creepy right now."

Ember stared blankly at the woman, words failing her as she shifted awkwardly in place.

"Anyways, I know about you because of my son. My name is Michelle Napier."


	24. XXIV

_"The only love that I really believe in is a mother's love for her children."_

—Karl Lagerfeld

* * *

"Would you like a glass of wine?" Ember offered, shuffling around the somewhat messy kitchen.

Michelle stood beside the island counter, her feet planted firmly on the ground as her brightly colored fingernails toyed with the strap of her purse.

"That'd be lovely." She smiled, her eyes scanning the disheveled home as Ember retrieved a nearby unopened bottle of wine from the counter.

Joker and Horton had gone out, according to the simple text message that he'd sent Ember while she was still at the café. She took their departure as an opportunity to invite Michelle over.

 _She was such an idiot._

"How about we take a seat in the living room?" Ember said, thrusting a half-full wine glass into Michelle's clutch as she waved her over.

Michelle hesitantly followed, her legs wobbling slightly as she trailed closely on Ember's heel.

Eight years.

It has been eight agonizing years since Michelle had seen her precious boy. Although she hadn't given birth to him, or even raised him, she loved him with every fiber of her being, regardless of the things he's done.

The moment his face appeared on the Gotham Nightly News, clad with that gaudy greasepaint she'd found in his bathroom, her heart had nearly exploded. See hadn't seen his face in an eternity, and to be able to see those alluring scars on her television was indescribable. He called himself the Joker, and her mind instantly wandered back to the sea of joker cards he'd tossed onto the dining room table the day he'd threatened to kill her.

"So," Ember began, plopping down on the sofa as the wine in her glass sloshed from side to side, nearly spilling from the cup as the womans eyes widened. "Tell me about what happened to Jackson."

Michelle took her spot on the opposite end, the glass resting on her knee as she studied Ember's paper plane necklace. Her heart physically hurt at the sight of it, Jackson's face flooding her mind as she hastily pushed the thoughts away.

"I just can't believe you're Ember," Michelle stammered. "I've heard so much about you. How did you two find each other again?"

Ember took her bottom lip between her teeth, shakily setting the wine glass onto the coffee table as she crossed her legs.

"I was walking home from work and I took a shortcut behind Arkham. I kinda caught him escaping so he kidnapped me and planned on killing me, until he saw my necklace and realized who I was."

"Did you know who he was?" Michelle pried, her heart hammering in her chest at the visual of Jackson reuniting with the love of his life.

"No." Ember frowned, twiddling her thumbs as a stray strand of dyed blonde hair fell into her eyes. "He looks different with makeup on. And I didn't know he had scars."

"So how did you find out it was him?" Michelle added, feeling rather nosey as Ember shifted in her spot.

"His necklace fell out of his shirt," Ember dryly explained. "He made me take off his makeup and I recognized him immediately, even with the scars. I'm surprised I never recognized his eyes, I spent so much time staring into them when I was younger. I guess the thought of the Joker being my teenage love was never even an option before then."

"How is he?" The old woman whispered.

Ember's lips curled into a weak grin, her overgrown fingernails tearing at the holes in her jeans as she simply nodded.

"He's good. Really good."

"I can imagine," Michelle gloated. "He has you again. You're the only good thing he's ever had."

"Besides you." Ember said.

Thick tears prickled in Michelle's eyes, her gaze diverting to the floor as Ember merely smiled.

 _Besides her. She was one of the only good things Jackson ever had._

"I really miss him, but I don't know if he misses me." Michelle revealed, her breath shallow as she took a large sip of her wine.

"Why did he leave?" Ember inquired, but immediately stiffened at the sound of the front door bursting open, colliding routinely with the drywall as Joker's haunting laugh filled the structure. Michelle's gaze sat glued on Ember's, too chicken to look back and see that painted face when it entered the room.

" _Ah ah ah ah ah_ ," Joker menacingly cackled. The hairs on the back of either womans neck immediately stood sky-high at the sound, their blood running cold as the sound of keys clanking against the island counter filled the void.

" _Oh-he-ha-aha._ "

Michelle raised a penciled brow, her breaths growing jagged as Joker frolicked about in the kitchen, deeply cackling as the women lay still in the opposite room.

" _Darrrr-liiiing_."

Joker rounded the doorway, his left arm thrusting upwards to claim the wall as he lounged seductively against it. A smeared painted brow raised, his scars tugging into a smirk as his gaze suddenly fell upon the back of a strangers skull.

His soft eyes immediately darkened, arm falling from the doorway as his gaze shifted from Ember to the stranger.

"And- _uh_ , _who_ do we have here- _ah_?"

 _Did Ember seriously bring a friend back to Joker's hideout?_

"Joker—" Ember stammered, but immediately let out a squeak when the click of the blade rippled through the air, his favorite vibrant purple switchblade in clutch.

"Are you really going to kill me with the knife I bought you?"

Joker froze in place, his heart immediately plummeting in his chest as his black holes for eyes widened.

 _It couldn't be..._

Michelle twisted in her seat, her comforting eyes meeting Joker's for the first time in eight years as they both held their breath.

The womans heart fluttered at the sight of him, dressed in that usual purple get-up of his. His bright red scarred lips sat ajar, shaking breaths slipping through them as the blade wavered in his gloved grasp.

"I like the green hair, nice touch." Michelle casually stated, placing her purse neatly onto the cushion as she rose from her spot. Ember eyed the woman intently as she rounded the furniture, approaching the frozen madman with caution as she simply smiled.

Joker still said nothing. The blade eventually toppled from his fingers, colliding with the rotting wood floor as he studied the aging woman several feet before him. His chest began to ache as he struggled to find the right words to say.

Instead of speaking his thoughts, the man simply approached Michelle with one large stride, enveloping the frail woman into an unexpected hug as she immediately molded into his arms.

Joker's chin rest on Michelle's bony shoulder, the fingers of his right hand twisting and untwisting in her hair as he hugged her tightly. Ember's jaw dropped at the sight, completely appalled by Joker's actions as he quietly embraced the woman who saved his life.

Michelle buried her face into his collar, blinking back and array of tears as she fisted her hands against the thick material of his coat.

She had her boy back.

Joker hesitantly pulled away moments later, his bottom lip quivering as Michelle's hand darted upward to claim his painted cheek.

"M-Mom?"

The air went still at his statement. Ember continued to openly gawk at the situation at hand, her stomach fluttering at the tone of Joker's voice as he cradled his adoptive mother in his arms. Suddenly, that clown-y persona had dissipated entirely, a genuine, deep voice falling from his lips as his mind went blank.

"Yes, baby. It's me." Michelle cooed, bringing her opposite hand upwards to claim the other side of his face as she cupped his cheeks.

" _Uh_ , why don't we si- _t_?" Joker shakily offered, gently prying his face from Michelle's comforting grasp as he shuffled towards the barcalounger that sat opposite the sofa.

Michelle took her seat once again, not once tearing her gaze from the Joker as he awkwardly fidgeted in place, his elbows resting on his knees as he sat on the edge of the chair.

Several greasy strands of green fell in his eyes, his bottom lip pouting outward to blow the hair from his face as he tapped his leg apprehensively.

Ember sat dumbfounded, her jaw still laying slack as she exchanged glances between the older woman and Joker, who was chewing exceedingly on his bottom lip.

"So," Ember trailed, her voice weak and gravely as she cleared her throat. "How was your day, Joker?"

"Are you disa- _ppointed_ in me?" Joker asked, brushing off Ember's query as his gaze focused solely on Michelle.

"Not at all." Michelle whispered, shooting him a genuine smile as she relaxed in her seat.

"I've _killed_ a lo- _t_ of people, Mom." He droned on, peeling the leather gloves from his hands as he discarded them onto the table.

"I know." She simply said, leaning forward to retrieve her wine glass as she took a small sip.

Ember sat mute between them, unsure of what to say or how to even react. It was evident that she was irrelevant at the moment.

"I _killed_ Olivi- _uh_ and Avery." He hesitantly added, his elbow bouncing against his irritable knee as his fingers pulled at his bottom lip.

"I know."

"So you're a nurse?" Ember interrupted, her hands folding against her crossed knee as Michelle simply nodded, finally diverting her stare from her son.

"I knicked a bit of stuff from the hospital to nurse Jackson back to health after the... incident."

"After Char- _lie_ fucked up my _face_ , you can _say_ it." Joker growled, his leg bouncing even quicker as he fidgeted in place.

Ember raised a suspicious brow at his actions, growing a bit worried at how fidgety and anxious he was.

"Er, I'll- _uh_ , be right _back_." He suddenly announced, tearing his fingers from his lip as his palms flattened against his knobby knees, pushing his weight upwards to stand as he quickly slunk from the room and disappeared down the hallway.

"He probably has to take a shit, or something." Ember playfully stated, a chuckle falling from Michelle's lips as she finished off her glass of wine. "Can I ask you a question?" Ember hesitantly spoke.

"Anything." Michelle smiled.

Ember sucked in a deep breath, her eyebrows knitting together apprehensively as she struggled to spit the words out.

"Why doesn't he want kids?"

Michelle froze at Ember's question, her heart painfully beginning to thud in her chest as Jackson's reaction to his infertility a decade ago bombarded her mind.

"Is that what he tells you?" Michelle ineptly questioned.

Ember silently nodded.

"Ember," Michelle cooed, her hand darting outward to claim the womans knee as she chewed on her bottom lip. "Jackson has always wanted kids, he was so excited to become a dad."

"So did the fact that the baby wasn't his make him not want children?" Ember wondered.

Michelle let out a small sigh, her fingers applying pressure on Ember's jean-clad knee.

"Sweet pea," she hesitantly began, "it's not that he doesn't want kids. He can't have them."

An audible gasp escaped Ember's lips, her palms darting upwards to cover her mouth as she began to violently shake.

"N-No... that's not possible..."

"Charlie beat him so severely that it made him infertile." Michelle collectively explained, the painful memory of her reading the test results made her stomach churn. Jackson would've made an amazing father...

"B-But why did he never tell me?" Ember stuttered, shaking her head refusingly.

 _It wasn't true... it couldn't be true..._

"Because it's painful for him, Ember. Can you imagine knowing that you'll never be able to have kids, even though you want them? Have you ever told him that you want kids? How'd the topic come up?" Michelle rambled.

"I-I told him I want kids, and he told me he didn't." Ember stammered, her hands shaking viciously.

"Imagine how he feels, darling." Michelle's voice lowered, her bottom scooting across the cushion to get closer to the trembling woman. "The love of his life wants to have children, and he cannot provide her with them. Can you even begin to fathom how painful that must be for him? He already thinks he's a failure, and now that feeling has worsened."

Ember's stomach churned at her words, but she couldn't help but feel rather nauseous at the phrase that tumbled from Michelle's lips.

 _The love of his life._

It wasn't possible, she couldn't be that to him. Jackson had loved her, but he was not Jackson. He was the Joker now, and if he felt the same way about her that he had fifteen years ago, he would've told her those three words that she used to love to hear. However, if those three words tumbled from his scarred lips today, she wasn't so sure if she could spit them back out at him.

"Is he okay?" Michelle interjected, her eyes darting in the direction of the hallway as Ember stiffened.

"I'll go check on him." Ember stammered, shuffling from her seat as she tripped over her own two feet on the way up.

The woman stumbled down the hallway, her gaze flickering over the mutilated framed stock photos that lined the walls as her fingers grazed either side of them. Her head was swimming, and she wasn't quite sure if it was because of the wine, or because Joker _can't have fucking kids._

Ember found the vibrant purple door ajar, her palm shakily pushing it open further as she shuffled into Joker's bedroom.

"Joker?" She called, her palms resting on the wood of the closed bathroom door.

After no response, her hand hovered over the handle, jiggling it slightly, only to find it locked.

"Are you—"

The door swung open abruptly, her heart stopping clean in her chest as a disheveled Joker came into view. Several strands of green hair lay in his hooded eyes, his arms propelling forward to slide his theatrical coat back up to his shoulders as he merely grinned.

Ember raised a perplexed brow, her arms crossing as his arms darted up towards his face, pushing the hair from his eyes with both hands as his tongue darted outwards to meet his scars. His eyes screwed shut in euphoria, a sigh escaping his lips before he dropped his hands at his sides once more.

"All _done_." He cheerily mused, brushing past the woman as he strut towards the open door, disappearing from view.

Ember skipped behind him, his shoulders hunched as he reentered the living room, a broad smile captivating Michelle's lips once again.

"Joker, did you just—"

"So- _uh_ , where _were_ we?" Joker smacked his lips, collapsing beside the woman on the sofa as his head lulled back, lounging against the cushion. His hands rest on his lap, balled into a loose fist as Ember hesitantly lowered herself onto the sofa beside him.

"How've you been, baby? It's been eight years, I've missed out on a lot." Michelle said.

"Odd jobs," Joker began, his left hand toying with a strand of oily hair as he lay limp against the sofa. "Taunting the Bat- _mannn_."

His voice trailed lazily off, a sigh escaping his lips as his eyes rotated to the back of his skull. A familiar sense of warmth flooded through him, his limbs falling numb as he drifted into a tranquil state. Ember and Michelle's voices blurred, fading into the distance as he let out an involuntary moan.

 _He. Felt. Great._

"What's wrong with him?" Ember worriedly asked, her fingers lacing around his bicep as she nudged him.

Michelle silently observed the painted-face man, her tongue lapping out to caress her bottom lip as she merely sighed.

"He's doped up. He used to do it a lot when he got really anxious." She calmly explained, lounging back against the arm of the sofa as she mindlessly picked her nails.

Joker's left arm toppled from his hair, his bare fingers grazing against Ember's arm as his neck rotated in place, a smirk tugging at his mouth.

 _Heroin?_ Ember mouthed, eyes wide as Michelle nodded in response.

Joker toyed with the small hairs on Ember's arm, his eyelids fluttering open as he squinted heavily.

"I _feel_ ," he began, pausing slightly to collect his clouded thoughts. " _So_ good."

"Why don't we grab a bite to eat? He'll be out for the count for a bit." Michelle offered.

"Cigar- _ette_." Joker requested, his voice low and gravely as he lazily pointed in the direction of the pack of cigarettes and a lime green lighter on the table.

Ember snatched the pack from the table, fishing out a single cigarette as she handed it to the man. He took it between two white and red paint stained fingers, placing it neatly between his scarred lips as his eyelids fluttered closed once again. His girl lit the end of the cigarette, his hand clamping down on her thigh, squeezing as if to say _thank you_ before inhaling the smoke deeply into his lungs.

"Do you want anything to eat, Joker?" Ember whispered, pressing a delicate kiss to his forehead, careful not to get any paint on her lips as she did so.

" _Mmm_." He hummed, nodding slowly as he let out a cloud of smoke. His free hand darted upwards towards the collar of his shirt, loosening his tie with lanky fingers. A slight groan tumbled from his lips at a sudden sense of extreme relaxation set in, three fingers hooking into the collar of his shirt to tug it away from his neck.

Ember watched, mouth agape as the man drifted into a pleasurable state, his adams apple bobbing up and down in his throat as he took another drag from his cigarette, the collar of his shirt still tugged away from the skin of his neck.

"A cheese- _burger_ woul- _d_ be nice."

* * *

"Does she always go to bed obscenely early?" Michelle chuckled, taking a drag off of her cigarette as Joker merely nodded, a genuine, deep chuckle wracking through his chest.

"She's _thirty_ and acts like she's eigh- _ty_." The man mused, bringing the half-smoked cigarette to his lips again. His elbows rest on his knees as he sat at the edge of the sofa, his softened gaze fixated on the television.

"Are you happy, Jackson?" Michelle cooed, discarding her used cigarette onto the ash tray as she took a sip from her third glass of wine.

" _Very_." Joker gloated, his voice muffled by the cigarette between his lips as his fingers found the paper plane necklace underneath his unbuttoned shirt.

"So what are your plans? The infamous Joker can't exactly settle down and get married, can he?" His mother teased, playfully punching his bicep as he smirked in response.

"Ew, definitely no- _t._ "

His fingers fiddled with the lit cigarette, that damn tongue of his lacing outward to encapture his painted scars as his leg began to anxiously bounce once more.

"She- _uh_ , wants _kids_ , Mom."

Michelle leaned forward, her hand cradling his shoulder as he stared diligently at the ground, a small continuous strand of smoke erupting from the end of his cigarette as it dangled from his fingers.

"I know, we discussed that matter."

Joker shot her a quizzical glare, his heart plummeting at the fact that Ember probably knows about his infertility.

"What- _uh, did_ she say?"

"She wishes you would've told her yourself." His mother replied coolly.

Joker crunched the cigarette between his fingers, his muscles tensing as he smashed the end against the table, distinguishing the flame.

"How the _fuck_ was I supposed to tell her tha- _t_?" He seethed, clenching his fists as his eyelids screwed shut. "How the _fuck was I supposed to tell her tha-t I can never give her the one thing she wants most?"_

"It's okay, Jackson. I know, you don't have to explain it to me." Michelle cooed, running a hand through his matted curls as he shook violently.

"I'll _never_ be good enough for her."

* * *

Ember stirred awake, blinking several times to adjust to the darkness as she suddenly became aware of an arm laced around her waist.

Her heart nearly burst in her chest, her body flipping swiftly over to face the mysterious individual as her hand accidentally came into contact with thier face.

" _Jesus_ , Em!" Joker throatily groaned, his colorant stained hands darting upward to cup his eye, which had taken quite the hit from Ember's fingers.

Ember blinked several more times, her eyes finally focusing on his dark face, when it suddenly dawned on her that his makeup was missing. A fresh-faced Joker lay beside her, minus a shirt, legs clad with white and blue polka-dot drawstring pants.

"Fuck," Ember murmured, cradling the mans face as she pried his hand from his eye. "I'm so sorry, you just scared me. I'm used to sleeping alone since Noah died."

"It's _okay_ , toots." Joker lowly stated, rubbing his injured eye roughly as she pried his hand from his face once again.

Before he could protest, Ember dipped down, her lips capturing his in one swift movement.

His lips immediately parted, his palm cupping her jaw as his thumb applied pressure to her chin. Ember whimpered when his finger drew her jaw down, prying her lips open with ease as he slipped his tongue into her open mouth.

"Can you ever keep your tongue to yourself?" Ember teased, her voice muffled by his eager lips as he merely chuckled in response.

"No- _pe_." Joker's hands traveled to her hips, tugging her to him as she let out a small squeal. She straddled his waist, her hands roaming his bare chest as her fingers delicately grazed the disfigurements of his skin.

His tongue found hers, tasting the sweetness of her mouth as she molded into his embrace. She tasted of mint toothpaste and lust, driving his senses wild as he craved her every touch. He was kissing her, actually kissing her in this very moment, and he found himself missing the feeling of her lips, even though they literally sat on his right now. _How fucking wild was that?_

Ember's fingers caressed his face, feeling every inch of the bare skin as she reveled in the touch. There was something absolutely mesmerizing about his bare face, and it drove her wild.

"Did Michelle go home?" Ember breathlessly asked, her lips detaching from his as he grunted in response.

"She's in my be- _d_."

Joker's hands gripped firmly onto her hips, tugging her closer to him as he bucked his upwards. A light groan tumbled from Ember's lips as the sudden contact.

"J-Joker?" She gasped, her fingers lacing into his flourescent ringlets as he hummed. "I know you can't have kids."

Joker stilled beneath her, immediately going soft at her comment as his brows knit together in conflicted emotion.

"Ou- _t_ of all _fucking_ times to mention that, you choose _now_." He groaned, rolling the woman off of his timid frame as he shuffled up into a sitting position, his head falling into his hands as he brought his knees up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Yah _know_ , you're _really_ good at giving me- _uh_ , _blue_ balls, Em." The man groaned, clenching fistfuls of hair between his fingers.

"Hey," Ember cooed, lifting his face from his hands as she gently caressed the lining of his jaw. "It's okay, Joker. I don't really want kids that bad, I promise. Plus, I think I'd make a shit mom anyways." She rambled, but was silenced when Joker grabbed her wrist tightly, emitting a squeak from the woman as he squeezed.

"I can't even _give_ you the one thing you truly wan- _t_. Don't _fucking_ lie to me, darlin'." He released his death grip on her wrist, his strangled gaze detaching from hers as she rubbed the sore skin.

"Joker, I'm not lying to you. I thought I wanted kids, but I promise, it's not that important if I don't have them."

" _Why_ are you even with me, _hmm_?" The man countered, his arms lacing around his knees as he brought them to his chest.

"I'm a _freak_. I murder people for _fun_. I've fucking _punched_ you, nearly _killed_ you, pu- _t_ a knife to your neck, and ye- _t_ , you still kiss me and touch me and _fuck_ me—"

"Because you're _you_." Ember sternly replied, taking his face in her hands as she begged for him to look at her.

" _Em_ ," he croaked, his tone shifting lower and deeper as his chocolate tinted gaze bore into hers. "I'm no- _t_ the kid you fell in _love_ with any- _more_."

And oh, he was so right.


	25. XXV

_"A good act does not wash out the bad, nor a bad act the good. Each should have its own reward."_

—George R.R. Martin

* * *

Ember's shaking fingers glided across the keys, her eyes scanning the search results with ease as she occasionally glanced over her shoulder.

A long figure lay buried beneath the violent purple comforter, the blanket rising and falling with every gentle breath as Joker softly snored.

Her gaze returned to the blue hued computer screen, her foot tapping irately against the carpet as several articles matching the search "Georgia DeLoughrey" appeared.

A small squeak tumbled from Ember's swollen lips, her breaths growing jagged as she clicked on the very first link.

 **GOTHAM STOCK EXCHANGE BOMBED**

 ** _By, Kelly Lloyd_**

 _On the tenth of February 2009, The Joker (recently escaped from Arkham Asylum as of the second of January), launched a terrorist attack on the Gotham City Stock Exchange at approximately 3:06 PM._

 _According to officials, The Joker and thirteen masked individuals entered the premises, three (including The Joker himself) clad with firearms, whilst the other ten out of sight, manning the explosives._

 _The Joker threatened one individual in particular, a fifty-three year old woman by the name of Georgia DeLoughrey, who had been employed with the Stock Exchange for nearly twenty-two years. Witnesses who survived the attack state that the man had demanded answers from the woman about her job, accusing her (and other employees) of "ruining peoples lives"._

 _Around 3:12 PM, The Joker had announced that the employees were given a reprieve, that is, if they could "get out" in time. Before exiting the building, The Joker physically assaulted DeLoughrey and knocked her unconcious against her desk. According to witnesses, one of the masked help had attempted to revive the woman, but to no avail._

 _At 3:15 PM, the explosives were triggered, and the building went up into flames. DeLoughrey, along with ninety-seven other individuals, had lost their lives, including the ten masked men of The Joker's._

 _A memorial service for the fallen will be held on the fifteenth of February, 2009._

Ember's hands balled into fists against the wood of the desk, violent trembles wracking through her body as she desperately tried to remember the incident.

 _Fucking nothing._

Her eyes flickered down to the bottom right corner of the screen, coming into contact with todays date as her heart dropped.

 _February twenty-second._

Ever since her little kidnapping, the woman had a very bad habit of losing track of the date. But, as she aimlessly counted backwards on her fingers, a realization had dawned on her: Hers and Joker's first (well, second) time had been on February fourteenth... fucking _Valentine's Day._

 _Had he done that on purpose?_

Ember stiffened when a pair of arms laced around her shoulders, linking around her chest as Joker nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck.

The womans hand instinctively darted upwards, her fingers lacing around the skin of his arm as he let out an involuntary sigh of content.

"Come back to _bed_ , doll." He sleepily begged, his voice hoarse and thick as his bare lips peppered kisses along her jaw.

"I will in a minute." Ember pressed, craning her neck as Joker's lips met hers briefly.

The kiss only lasted a mere second, lips sealed as he lazily brushed his mouth against hers.

"Wha- _t_ are you _doing_?" He groaned, blinking several times to adjust to the brightness of the computer screen. His vision finally focused, photographs of the destroyed Gotham Stock Exchange coming into view as he frowned.

"I can't remember a thing," Ember whispered, removing her gentle grasp from his arm. "I'm just trying to make myself remember."

"I can jus- _t_ tell you, pump- _kin_ , if you'd come back to be- _d_."

"Okay, okay." She surrendered, exiting out of the article as she rose from the swivel chair, crawling back into the warmth of the bed as she curled into Joker's tall frame once more.

* * *

" _She's got a smile it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories_..." Horton sang, tapping the heel of his boot against the tile floor as he prepared himself a cup of coffee.

The sweet sound of Sweet Child O' Mine by Guns N' Roses filled the room, so loudly that the vibrations of the music sent shivers up the portly mans spine.

" _Now and then when I see her face, she takes me away to that special place. And if I'd stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry_."

Horton placed a ceramic mug onto the grainte counter, his beefy fingers curling around the handle of the coffee pot as he tore it from the base. With a sigh of content, the man filled his mug with fresh, steaming coffee to the brim before returning the pot to its holster.

Typically, the boss was not one to sleep past eight in the morning. However, as Horton persistently checked the silver watch latched around his left wrist, he began to grow rather antsy. It was nearly eleven, and he hadn't seen or heard from either Ember or Joker all morning.

Horton prematurely sipped from his navy tinted mug, hissing in discomfort when the sweltering liquid scorched his upper lip.

Grunting slightly, the henchman neatly placed the mug onto the counter, beside a half-eaten blueberry bagel on a napkin as he started in the direction of Joker's bedroom.

 _Hopefully he was alright..._

The man skipped down the hallway, his gaze gliding over the vandalised stock images in frames as he let out a chuckle. He clearly remembered the day Joker had scribbled bloody Glasgow grins along the strangers' lips. Back then, Joker thought it was the absolute funniest thing ever.

Joker's vibrant purple door sat cracked open, Horton's tongue darting outward to line his lower lip as he reached a hand out to the wood.

The door swung open with ease, Horton's eyes widening at the abundance of sunlight that illuminated Joker's otherwise dark and dingy room. Just as the man was about to call Joker's name, his stare settled upon the bed, his heart snapping cleanly in half as his jaw fell ajar.

Joker was fully dressed, his lanky body clad in his usual theatrical get-up, a mess of green curls laced between the perfectly manicured fingers of Ember DeLoughrey.

The boss sat crouched at the foot of the bed, his right knee pressed against the carpet as he balanced his weight on his left foot. Ember, however, was stark-nude, her recently shaven legs draped over Joker's shoulders as she arched her back in extreme euphoria.

Horton's breath shallowed, his knees growing weak as he forced the bile back down his throat. Although the scene before him was absolutely mortifying, he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away...

A low grunt tumbled from Joker's (possibly painted, Horton couldn't quite see) lips the moment Ember tugged on his flourescent curls. Her eyelids were screwed tightly shut, pants escaping her lips as she squirmed against his lips. Joker's bare, colorant-stained fingers gripped onto her pertruding hipbones, steadying the woman against his face as she practically convulsed.

Horton shook his head, gulping rather loudly before turning on his heel, exiting the room without a word as the couple carried about, not even noticing that the man had witnessed anything at all.

The man tumbled about in the hallway, his wide palms pressing against the drywall to steady himself as the room began to expeditiously spin.

He _hated_ himself for loving The Joker. No matter how much his heart yearned for the painted-face man, he would never have him. The Joker would never be his.

"You're such- _ah_ squirmer."

"Sorry." Ember blushed, swiftly pressing a kiss to Joker's painted mouth. "I promise I'll return the favor later."

She seductively winked in his direction, a pair of dark circled brows raising in amusement as he imagined all the ways Ember could return the favor.

" _Oh_?" He instinctively licked his lips. "And wha- _t_ will you- _uh, do_?"

"That's for _me_ to know, and _you_ to find out." The woman mused, playfully pinching his clothed arm before skipping swiftly from the bedroom, isolating the somewhat turned-on man as he chuckled lightly to himself.

Ember filed into the kitchen, her brows knitting together in confusion as she observed a cold mug of black coffee and a half consumed bagel.

"Hey, Joker?" She called, glancing over her shoulder as he entered the kitchen, running a hand through his disheveled, greasy curls.

" _Yeeees_?" He teased, his voice low and gravely as his palms met her shoulders. Ember let out a gasp when his fingers suddenly applied pressure, massaging the tense skin as he pressed his front against her back.

" _Mmm_ ," Joker hummed, placing his chin onto her bony shoulder as she shuttered under his touch. "Man, how I'd jus- _t_ love to _bend_ you over this counter righ- _t_ now..."

"I can't find Horton." Ember blurted.

Joker sighed in defeat, tearing his face from her shoulder as he dug for his mobile.

"He's- _uh_ , probably just _out_."

Ember quietly observed as Joker dialed Horton's number, chewing mindlessly on his bottom lip as he placed the phone to his ear.

The air stiffened when the blaring sound of Horton's phone erupted from the opposite side of the kitchen.

Joker's expression faltered, anger boiling in his bones as he snapped the lid of the cell phone shut.

"Tha- _t fucker._ " He spat, abruptly brushing past Ember as he made a bee-line for the front door.

A sense of relief washed over him to see the SUV still parked directly under the wilted oak tree, Horton nowhere in direct sight as Joker merely closed the door once again.

"He has _three_ hours," Joker drawled, tearing the switchblade from his outer pocket, toying with the blade as a devilish grin grew on his features. "I've- _uh_ , always _liked_ Hort, so it'll fucking _suck_ to have to kill him."

"Maybe it was an emergency?" Ember offered. Admittedly, she'd grown to really like Horton, and definitely did not want to see Joker sink his knife into the blonde boys chest.

"We- _ll_ ," Joker twirled the blade between his fingers, eyeing the glimmering knife as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Wher- _ever_ he is, he's on _foot_."

Ember drummed her fingers against the hard rubber of the steering wheel, her free hand tugging at the skin of her lower lip as her eyes scanned the side of the road for a familiar figure.

She drove slowly, the top on the Mustang down as her hair flapped about in the wind. Joker's hideout was pratically in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by an abundance of trees and woods as the vehicle tumbled down a dirt path.

Suddenly, her heart clenched when she spotted a hunched figure, seated on the graveled ground as he held his legs to his chest. Ember's pulse quickened, her fingers lacing around the gear shift as she thrust it into park on the opposite side of the road. The woman crept from the car, gently closing the drivers side door with a click as the gravel crunched underneath her sneakers.

"Horton?" She called, slowly approaching the man, who sat in a fetal position on the dirt path. Red rings lined his vibrant eyes, which studied a nearby misshapen rock as Ember sunk to his level.

"Horton, what happened?" She pried, taking a seat on the ground directly across from the hunched man.

Horton tugged at the sleeve of his sweater, blinking away several fresh tears as he avoided Ember's desperate glare.

"Fuck off." He simply muttered, digging the toe of his boot into the dirt.

"Hey," Ember scolded, her hand darting outward to claim his thick wrist as he instinctively flinched away. "Stop it. What's the matter?"

A mere sigh tumbled from his swollen rosey-red lips, shivering slightly from a mixture of the cold weather and the vivid memory of Joker's face between Ember's legs.

"Have you ever loved someone that you couldn't have?" Horton whispered.

Ember stiffened at his sudden statement, mouth ajar as she struggled to come up with a reply.

"O-Oh," she stuttered, brows knit together in concentration. "Yeah, actually. Don't laugh, but Bruce Wayne."

Horton's gaze flickered upwards, a smile toying on his lips at her confession.

"You're joking."

"Cross my heart, I'm not. Remember how I said we went on a few dates and fucked a few times?" Ember said, mirroring Horton's stance as she pulled her legs to her chest.

"Yeah." He chuckled.

"Well, my dumbass fell in love with him. The fucker totally broke my heart when he didn't call."

Horton shook his head, a soft snort vibrating through his nose as he continued to draw circles in the dirt with the toe of his shoe.

"Why do you ask, Hort? Does this have something to do with a girl?"

"You seem to use that word a lot." Horton snipped, gaze darkening as Ember's jaw lay slack.

"Huh? What word?"

" _Girl_." Horton mocked.

Several unidentifiable sounds tumbled from Ember's mouth, her head shaking as she struggled to even comprehend his words.

"Did you every think that maybe, just _maybe_ , I like dick?" Horton spat.

Ember did not reply. She sat absolutely dumbfounded across from him, feeling slightly guilty for not even considering that possibility as Horton shuffled in his spot.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't even think—You don't really seem like the type—"

"I didn't know there was a gay type." He dismissed, picking aimlessly at the dead skin on his fingers.

"You know what I mean," Ember stuttered. "Anyways, do I know– _uh_ –him?" She knew quite well that she probably wouldn't know the man Horton's heart belonged to, but she couldn't help but feel rather nosey and crave an answer.

Horton hesitated, his gaze settling on Ember before diverting back to the ground.

"I'd say you know him quite well, considering his face was between your legs all morning."

Ember's blood ran cold.

 _What?_

 _He was joking... he had to be joking..._

" _Joker_?" She choked, her palm darting upwards to claim her agape mouth.

"Bingo." Horton monotonely replied.

"B-But—"

"I've loved him for as long as I remember. I've been working for him for three years, and it gets worse every single day." Horton revealed, highly embarrassed to have the words even leave his mouth. He knew quite well that his confession was most certainly a death sentence. That is, unless Ember keeps her lips sealed.

"Oh my god, Horton." Ember cried, thrusting her arms outward to encapture his shoulders.

The man stiffened beneath her hold, his head growing fuzzy as the sudden comforting scent of gasoline and gunpowder filled his lungs.

 _She smelled like him_.

"Uh, you can get off now." He awkwardly said, pushing the woman off of him as he avoided her sympathetic glare.

"We should go back to the house. He thinks you've abandoned him." Ember pressed, rising from her spot as her fingers brushed the dirt from her jeans.

Horton silently agreed, also climbing to his feet as the bones in his knees loudly cracked. He clambered into the passenger seat, still fully avoiding Ember's stare.

The duo rode silently back to the disheveled home, Horton's heart thumping thickly in his throat when the house came back into view.

"I-I can't see him—" Horton spluttered, shifting in his seat.

"I won't tell him, Horton. I promise." Ember dryly replied, a strange feeling of jealousy overcoming her.

"You actually love him?"

"Yes. Don't you?" Horton swiftly replied, focusing on the front door of the building.

"No."

Horton snapped his neck sideways, a look of disgust plastered on his features at Ember's pitiful response.

"I barely know him." She softly added.

"You said you've known him since you were kids." Horton countered.

"I knew him when he was Jackson. He isn't the same guy anymore. I love Jackson, but I don't love the Joker." Ember sighed, her eyes glued to the steering wheel as her heart hammered in her chest. "I don't think I could ever love the Joker."

Horton shuffled from the Mustang, his hands growing clammy as he shuffled towards the front door. Ember's words repeated over and over in his head, and honestly, it made him fucking sick. The Joker deserved better, he deserved to be loved.

Ember followed closely on the mans heel, her chest tightening when the front door opened, revealing the Joker in the kitchen, right where she'd left him.

He lounged against the island counter, his left hip supporting his weight against the granite as his bare fingers laced around a ball-point pen. The tip of the pen rotated clockwise as he doodled on a clean sheet of lined paper.

Joker's dark eyes flickered upwards at the sound of the front door opening, his jaw tightening at the sight of a broken Horton as he entered the building.

" _Where_ have you—"

"I'm in love with you." Horton confidently announced.

The air went stale at his proclamation. Ember's heart quit beating entirely, a firey sensation growing in her chest as she found it difficult to breathe.

Joker, however, reacted a bit differently.

The pen toppled from his grasp, colliding with the counter with a small clink as he straightened his stance. His brows knit tightly together, creating several wrinkles between the hair as his jaw fell slack.

"I- _uh_ , I-I..?" Joker stammered, at a complete loss for words as he observed Horton's heaving chest.

"I think it's time I let you know. I understand if you don't want a faggot working for you, especially one that is attracted to you. So, I want you to know that it's okay if you kill me. I've come to terms with my fate." The henchman spoke, his voice not once wavering.

Joker still stood dumbfounded at the counter, blinking several times as he merely shook his head in bewilderment.

"I'm no- _t_ going to kill you."

Horton's pulse quickened, a smile toying at his lips as Joker's lips sealed. He watched keenly as the madman's face twitched, his left scar tugging up into a weak, half-grin as he finally broke their stare.

"Hey- _uh_ , Christopher?" Joker asked, his voice weary as he shuffled the doodled papers between his fingers.

Horton stiffened at Joker's use of his first name.

He never called him anything but Horton.

"Y-Yes, boss?"

"Can you- _uh_ , get us some _dinner_?" Joker muttered, refocusing on his sloppy drawings.

"Yes, sir." Horton replied, retrieving the keys from the nearby counter before turning on his heel and exiting the house once more.

* * *

 **Long ass A/N:** This chapter took me waaay too long to write because I was honestly super nervous about it. This is a HUGE step for Horton to be able to admit his feelings for Joker, and my heart literally broke when he walked in on him and Ember. (Don't mind me, I'm just so disgustingly attached to Horton).

Also, I have seen several different scenarios where the Joker is homophobic in stories. Even though Heath's Joker's view on homosexuality is unknown, I am putting my own spin on his character (as usual). If you don't agree with my decision, that is absolutely okay, but I just can't bring myself to make him homophobic, especially since Heath was far from it. I almost think it's insulting to make his character that way (just my opinion!)

Please leave some reviews to let me know how you're liking it. Any and all are appreciated!


	26. XXVI

_"I have lost control over everything, even the places in my head."_

—Paula Hawkins

* * *

Ember approached the familiar carob tinted door, her fingers lacing around the cool metal of her keys as she sucked in a staggered breath.

Nearly two months it's been. Two months since she'd stepped foot in the place she called home (used to call home, at least).

Lucky for her (and Noah), her adoptive parents had assisted them in paying off the price of the home, therefore she rightfully owned the single-story house.

It sat in a slow paced neighborhood, the neighboring homes several yards apart as Ember swiftly avoided any type of interaction with her neighbors. Surely they'd noticed her absence lately, and she wasn't sure of what kind of excuse to make.

The lock unlatched with a rather noisy click, her heart leaping into her throat when she shoved the wood door open with the toe of her shoe. The womans chest tightened at the sight of her home, a pair of Noah's maroon Converse sneakers still sat snugly against the wall opposite the door. She didn't quite have the strength to move his things following the... incident.

The strap of her handbag slid down the length of her arm, toppling to the tile floor with a thump as she shuffled about. Her fingers traced the lining of the whitesmoke colored walls, lined with framed photographs of her deceased husband and herself.

A gasp tumbled from her cracked lips when she suddenly noticed something a bit— _off_ —about the photographs.

With squinted eyes, Ember approached a nearby framed photo; hers and Noah's wedding photo. Her palm darted upward, covering her gaping mouth as she took in the sight of Noah.

Black, beady eyes glared back at her, accompanied by a bloody, jagged Glasgow grin, stretching up the length of his cheeks.

 _What the fuck..._

Suddenly, a thought dawned upon her. Joker must've vandalised her pictures when he'd come to collect her articles of clothing...

Ember shakily circled the building, her eyes skimming over the clutter that littered the home. She was never one to keep a clean house, unfortunately. Her mother always scolded her for that.

Her mother was also dead, just like her Noah.

This little trip proved to be even more painful to the woman than she expected. Ember choked back thick tears, toying with the sleeve of her jacket as she collected several items, stuffing them into the jet black gym bag she'd brought with.

Just as she began to shuffle through the mess of items on her bedroom dresser, a familiar object caught her eye. With shaking fingers, Ember retrieved the matted book from the surface, turning the faded cover over in her hands as her chest began to ache. Her manicured fingers gently pried the yellowed pages apart, her gaze grazing over the faded ink as she forgot how to breathe entirely.

Suddenly, the room began to spin. Her knees locked, legs beginning to wobble as her vision focused on a specific page.

"Here is the deepest secret nobody knows," Ember whispered, her voice emerging in a tremble as she collapsed onto the floor. Her bottom collided with the carpet, the small of her back coming into contact with the handles of the dresser drawers as the tears freely flowed. "Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide."

Ember squeezed her eyes tightly shut, Joker's fifteen-year-old face bombarding her mind.

"And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart." She recited from memory, the pages gliding closed against the tips of her fingers as she openly sobbed.

 _She needed her Jackson back._

With a heavy sigh, Ember finally exited the home, locking the door tightly behind her as she slung the stuffed gym bag over her empty shoulder. The ratted book of poetry sat in her grasp, her heartbeat accelerating when her gaze settled upon her elderly neighbor, Melissa.

"Ember?" The woman called, her floral printed cane rising and falling from the pavement as she scurried up Ember's driveway.

"Fuck." Ember hissed under her breath, her lips tugging into a closed-mouth grin as she tossed the bag into the back seat of the Mustang.

"Where've you been?" The woman pried, her thick-rimmed spectacles slipping down the bend of her oily nose.

"I'm living with my boyfriend." Ember spat, avoiding eye contact with the woman as she clambered into the vehicle. The top of the Mustang was tucked neatly into the trunk, therefore, Melissa could still fucking bug Ember until she drove off.

"Boyfriend? Moved on from Noah so soon?"

Ember's jaw tightened, her blood beginning to boil as she craned her neck, eyeing the irritating woman as Melissa trudged towards the passenger side of the car.

"It's been eight months, Melissa. Plus, why would I want to sit around and mope anyways? I'm going to be thirty-one, I have every right to do what I please with my life." The woman swiftly countered.

Melissa's lips lay ajar, a response escaping her as Ember ignited the engine.

"Plus, I don't think my man would want your spying eyes on him anyways."

With that, Ember's fingers laced around the gear shift, thrusting it into drive as the Mustang tumbled down the uneven road. With an occasional glance in the rear view mirror, the woman watched as a frail Melissa disappeared from view.

Ember arrived at Joker's hideout a solid thirty minutes later, her heartbeat quickening when her stare settled upon a casual Joker dressed in a navy zip-up hoodie, his faded green locks falling into his eyes as he raised the axe above his head. The woman watched in awe as he brought it down onto the wood, splitting the log into two as his tongue routinely darted outward to trace his bare, scarred lip.

Typically, Joker would only strut a bare face when he was sleeping, but today, apparently, was different. The absence of greasepaint on his features in the daylight prompted Ember's stomach to twist into tight knots.

His soft brown gaze mets her the moment the Mustang pulled into the gravel driveway, his expression brightening as the axe lay limp at his side.

"Hiya, _doll_." He called, his eyes following hers as she parked the car behind the SUV.

With flushed cheeks, Ember retrieved the gym bag, quickly stuffing the book of poetry into the bag before zipping it tightly closed.

Joker observed her curiously, his stare settling upon the merely overflowing bag as Ember strut from the drivers side door. Her overgrown bleached locks were thrown astray by the wind, several strands laying in her eyes as the roots appeared to be quite greasy (most likely from his prying fingers the previous night). A smirk sat upon her blushing cheeks, the shoulder of her jacket pulled downward by the strap of the bag to reveal a hint of her skin and a bright purple bra strap.

"Where'd yah- _uh, go_?" Joker nosily pried, raising the axe into the air once more before planting it deeply into a log.

"Back to my old place to grab some more of my things." She explained, the gravel crunching underneath the soles of her shoes as she approached him.

Joker grinned when her lips suddenly met his, cold to the touch, but so warm and inviting at the very same time. His left hand rose to meet her oily locks, the pad of his thumb tickling the smoothness of her cheekbone as his fingers curled to meet the small hairs that cupped her ear. Just as the man parted his lips to taste her mouth, Ember abruptly pulled away. A low groan resonated through his chest, a flash of annoyance coating his features as she simply smiled.

"What are you doing?" She whispered, her gaze settling upon the pile of chopped logs.

"It's- _uh_ a little nippy ou- _t_ today, don't yah think?" Joker began, his arm lacing around her shoulders as he tugged her tiny frame to his.

Ember buried her face into his warm chest, the zipper of his jacket tickling her chin as she breathed in his scent. Gasoline and gunpowder, and a hint of cologne, it seemed. God, he smelled absolutely _heavenly_...

"We're having a lit- _tle_ bon- _fire_ tonight." He finished, his lips grazing across her forehead as she melted beneath his touch.

"The Joker likes to sit around a bonfire?" Ember chuckled, tearing her face from his chest to gauge his reaction. Joker's chin flattened against his neck, his vision steadying on hers beneath him as he merely grinned.

"I- _uh_ , might be a _psychopath_ , love, bu- _t_ that doesn't mean I don't like a good _bonfire_. I invited my mom, too."

"Touché. And I'm sure Michelle was very pleased to receive that invitation." Ember giggled, standing on her tippy-toes to press a closed-mouth kiss to Joker's desperate lips. "Have you talked to Horton?"

Joker stilled against her, his expression faltering as he awkwardly toyed with his bottom lip, tugging it tightly between his teeth.

"He's _avoiding_ me."

"He's probably embarrassed." Ember defended, her heart beginning to ache for the poor blonde henchman. She couldn't even imagine how he felt...

"I wanted to let you know that I really admire you for how you reacted to his confession." She added.

A disgruntled sigh escaped the mans lips, his arm tearing from her shoulders as his fingers laced around the wooden handle of the axe.

"Well," Joker sang, his voice thick and raspy. "I guess I'll have to _kill_ someone in fron- _t_ of you to change your _mind_."

Ember merely raised a brow, shuffling her weight from one foot to the other.

"May I _remind_ you," Joker began, his hand darting outward to claim her jaw. He took the skin between his index finger and thumb, applying a bit of pressure as the woman winced beneath his touch. "I _am_ the Joker, doll. I'm- _uh, not_ a good person."

"You are around me." Ember coolly replied.

Joker's gaze darkened, his fingers dropping from her face as he straightened up once more.

"Don't get _used_ to it, buttercup."

Ember abandoned Joker moments later, the heavy bag beginning to hurt her shoulder as Joker continued to chop the logs into smaller pieces.

She found Horton inside the home, wrapped inside a thick blanket as he lounged on the sofa, glare glued to the television.

"Hey, Hort." She blandly greeted, heading towards her bedroom as he grinned in response.

The bag slipped from her arm, toppling to the carpet as her eyes settled upon the lipstick stained wall. With prying hands, Ember ripped the zipper open, taking the matted book in her hands as she exited the room quickly, book held tightly to her chest as she headed back out the front door.

Her heart fell when Joker's tall frame was absent. She craned her neck in either direction, desperately hoping to see that navy sweater and those faded green curls. The man, however, was nowhere in plain sight.

 _Maybe it was a sign._

Ember let out a shaking sigh, turning quickly on her heel before reentering the house, discarding the book into the bag once more before collapsing onto the cold bed in a fit of tears.

"Do you like brownies?" Michelle wondered, placing a glass tray of brownies onto the granite counter, covered with a piece of tin foil.

Ember raised a suspicious brow, taking a corner of the foil between her fingers as she pried it from the tray, revealing a dozen-or-so chocolate brownies.

"Are they just regular brownies?" The woman wondered.

An amused grin tugged at Michelle's mouth as she set her purse onto the counter beside the brownies.

"Now, what's the fun in that?"

"Di- _d_ Momma bring _pot_ brownies?" Joker cackled.

Ember twisted on her heel, an array of butterflies erupting in her belly at the sight of him. Still clad in that damn navy zip-up, a plain grey tee snug underneath as his arms sat folded across his chest. His left shoulder lounged against the doorframe, messily laced boot-clad feet crossed as a smart smirk sat upon his greasepaint-less lips.

Michelle's jaw fell slack at the sight of him, slightly shocked by his appearance as words escaped her. She hadn't seen him without his trademark makeup since he lived under her roof.

Joker raised a perplexed brow, his scars tugging further up his face as he shuffled in place.

" _Lordy_ ," he playfully mused. "Take a damn _picture_ , darlings."

Both Ember and Michelle awkwardly cleared their throats, diverting their gaze to the pan of marijuana laced brownies on the counter.

"Sorry," Ember murmured, prying a single slice of brownie from the pan. "You look really handsome."

The color in Joker's cheeks transformed, the pale skin masked with a hint of pink as he openly fucking blushed at Ember's compliment.

 _What the fuck was wrong with him?_

"The- _uh_ ," he began, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets as he cleared his throat. " _Bonfire_ is ready."

Ember simply nodded, tearing a small chunk off of the dessert as she tossed it into her open mouth. Her cheeks went scarlet when she'd realized that Joker had been staring the entire time. Ember scurried across the room, shoving another bite of brownie into her mouth as Joker's hand darted outward, snatching the snack from her grasp.

"Hey!" She called, he voice muffled by the food in her mouth as Joker stuffed the rest of it into his mouth with one large bite.

"Asshole." Ember murmured, her lips tugging into a grin when the scarred-face man pressed a sudden chocolate-filled kiss to her cheek.

A sigh of content tumbled from her lips when his fingers laced in hers. There would never be a more comforting feeling than his skin against hers. Flesh against flesh... hearts beating as one. The way her tiny body molded perfectly into his tall frame at night–how his warm breath tickled her neck and caused her toes to curl. Feverish lips latching onto one anothers, exchanging breathless sighs as they'd simply swallowed each others innocent noises...

But she didn't love him.

Regardless of how extremely wonderful The Joker made her feel, he was, and would always be, a fucking criminal. He was impulsive, he was violent, and he was unpredictable. Although Ember was almost quite certain that he'd never lay a finger on her, the slight twinge in her crooked nose reminded her of that one time he'd actually laid a hand on her...

Although, she did hit him first.

"Where d'you go _off_ to, toots?" Joker whispered, his warm breath fanning over her cheek as goosebumps scattered along her flesh. The frigid Gotham wind slapped her in the face the moment he'd led her out the front door.

"Just thinking."

"About _me_?" Joker gloated, his arm snaking around her waist as they trudged towards the lawn chairs that surrounded a beaming fire. Although she wasn't looking at him when he'd said it, she could practically see his scars stretch all the way up the curve of his face as he spat out the word "me" in her mind.

Horton lounged in a bright yellow chair, his legs tightly crossed as his pointed nose sat buried in his mobile.

"Horton." Ember breathed, tearing from Joker's prying hands as she swiftly approached the blonde boy in front of the fire.

"Hey." She breathlessly called, claiming the jet black seat directly beside him as Michelle and Joker slowly approached the large fire.

Horton's gaze flickered over, meeting hers in a worried glance as his eyes met Joker's bare face suddenly.

His chest tightened at the sight, his mouth suddenly going dry as he ignored Ember's greeting.

" _Emmmberrrr_." Joker drawled, sinking into his chair across the fire. The flames frolicked about, covering and revealing his face in waves as his soft eyes darkened.

Joker raised a hand, outstretching an index finger as he motioned for her to join him.

With trembling legs, Ember removed herself from the chair, stealing another glance in Horton's direction. He simply ignored her, encouraging her to abandon him as she joined Michelle and Joker on the opposite side of the large fire.

"C'mon, _darlin_ ," Joker huskily called, a delivish smirk plastered on his features. "Come _sit_ on daddy's _lap_."

Ember's jaw dramatically dropped at his statement, her gaze immediately diverting to Michelle Napier, who sat about three yards to the right. The elder woman, however, acted as if she hadn't heard a thing. Instead, she sat transfixed on the open flame, the orange glow dancing upon her features as she tightly crossed her legs.

The woman obliged, taking her spot on Joker's inviting lap, immediately curling into his frame as she brought her legs up to her chest.

A deep sigh of content wracked through Joker's chest, his nose immediately nuzzling into the crook of Ember's neck as she cuddled into the man she called hers.

Suddenly, a sense of euphoria flooded through her veins, the edibles beginning to finally kick in as she drifted into a tranquil state. Her gaze settled upon the dancing flame, a vibrant mixture of blues, yellows, reds and orange prancing about in the moonlight as she lay limp in Joker's arms.

"Joker?" She whispered.

" _Mmm_?" He lowly murmured, a bit overcome by the sudden high as well.

"I wish we could stay just like this forever."

"Me _too_ , doll."

* * *

 **A/N:** TOTAL OOC SAP FEST but I still had fun writing it and I hope it was fun to read! I promise things will get dark again soon, I just hate to make things so dreary all the time.

For those worried/concerned that my Joker "doesn't act like the Joker", keep in mind I have created my own version of him (I say this all the time lol sorry I'm annoying). He is still very unpredictable and violent, but most importantly, he is human.

Also, keep an eye out for some more Batsy soon ;)


	27. XXVII

_"Don't be afraid of your fears. They're not there to scare you. They're there to let you know that something is worth it."_

—C. JoyBell C.

* * *

"Wha- _t_ are you _afraid_ of?"

"Y-You, sir." The man stammered, cowering against the cool brick wall as he pulled his knees to his chest.

" _Oh_?" Joker sang, the word tumbling from his lips in the form of a slight giggle as his lips contorted into an "o" shape. "And _what_ about _me_ seems to frighten you, _kind_ sir?"

"You're the fucking _Joker_ , I don't know!" The man added, his hands beginning to violently shake as Joker's gaze lingered on his printed t-shirt.

"I- _uh_ , just have _one_ question for yah, pal."

His eyes grazed the bat symbol on the strangers shirt, the violent purple switchblade held tightly in his clutch as he fell to a crouching position. The man began to shake harder, backing further into the wall as Joker became eye-level with him.

"Where's the Bat- _man_?" Joker's tone shifted, transforming into a dark and menacing sound that nearly made the man piss himself in fright.

"I-I don't know—"

"If you don't _know_ , then _why_ do you wear tha- _t_ shirt, _hmm_?" Joker exploded, rising to his feet once again to tower over the cowering individual.

"He's my hero."

The mans blood ran cold when a taunting chuckle fell from Joker's scarred, painted lips. It was husky, deep, and most of all... mocking.

" _Ha ha ha aha aha_." Joker rasped, tracing the deep crevice of his lip with the tip of his tongue.

"Your _hero_?" He became eye-level with the man once again, arm outstretched as the blade set mere inches from the strangers nose. The man let out a fit of fearful tears in response to the proximity of the knife.

"Wha- _t_ kind of _hero_ doesn't even _show_ up to save you, huh? Say, the Bat- _man_ hasn't even shown his _face_ in what, nine _months_ –?"

"Everyone thinks he's a criminal because of you!" The man spat, his cheeks flushing bright red as anger boiled in his veins.

Joker's expression brightened, an amused grin plastered on his paint masked face as he let out an additional haunting chuckle.

"Your hero _killed_ Harvey Dent. Did'yah know about _that_ , bud?"

"I don't believe it. Harvey could've easily killed himself." The man swiftly defended.

"Why don't _you_ kill yourself, _hmm_? Better to do _that_ than to worship a- _uh_ , false _idol_."

"Leave him alone."

Joker's heart stopped cleanly in his chest, an abundance of goosebumps immediately littering his skin underneath his theatrical purple suit as he slowly climbed to his feet. With a simple twist of his heel, the madman's gaze settled upon none-other than Batman, dressed in his usual blacked-out attire, eyes dark as he glared in Joker's direction.

" _Oho_ , look whose _finally_ come out of his _cave_." Joker taunted, his feet shuffling slowly in the direction of Batman as he twisted the blade between his leather gloved fingers.

"God, I've _missed_ you, have you missed _me_?"

"I miss you being locked up in Arkham." Batman countered, still standing his ground as Joker crept closer and closer, a slight skip in his step as he nearly exploded with glee.

"I still _wish_ we could've shared a padded cell, _Batsy_."

Before Joker could even react, Batman had him in a chokehold, tossing his body beside the wall like a ragdoll as he tumbled to the floor.

"Just like old _times_ , huh, pal?" Joker throatily cackled, a grunt escaping his lips as he lay slump against the brick wall. With a swift side-to-side movement, he relieved his neck of the painful kink before quickly rising to his feet and snatching the knife once again.

"Stop!" A voice suddenly called.

Joker's blood ran cold at the sound, his eyes darkening as he'd realized the inevitable: The _bitch_ just couldn't wait in the car...

A cowering Ember filed into the alleyway, her hands stuffed into the overly large pocket of her mahogany sweatshirt as her locks blew astray.

"Don't hurt him!" She boldly added, glaring directly at the Batman as she quivered in her boots.

Here he was, the real life Batman, in the flesh right before her. She never thought she'd see the masked man in person.

"I thought I _told_ you to stay in the _car_." Joker hissed through gritted teeth.

"She's with _you_?" Batman scoffed, his jaw held ajar as he helped the cowering man from the floor.

Ember immediately froze, brows raising as she studied the vigilante's features. Something about that voice seemed somewhat familiar...

"Why d'you say it like _that_?" Joker chuckled. "Wha- _t? The Joker can't score himself a pretty girl?"_

"Are you his hostage?" Batman wondered, a sense of worry present in his tone as Ember swiftly shook her head.

"No. I'm his girlfriend."

A sinister grin curled onto Joker's painted lips, a series of ha's tumbling from his mouth as he twisted the blade between his fingers.

"I _told_ you so."

"He's not a good person, Ember." Batman announced, only to silence immediately following her name toppling from his lips.

 _What?_

Both Ember and Joker exchanged puzzled glances, the air eluding the womans lungs at the sound of it. She knew that voice, she knew the way her name sounded from those lips...

"How _d'you_ —" Joker stammered, but Batman never let him finish.

"I'll give you a five minute head-start, Joker. If I get you, you'll be shipped off to Arkham tonight. I suggest you take up my offer." The deep, gravely voice said, the bat's cape rippling in the wind as the stranger still stood in close proximity, bewildered by the sight of his hero.

"Let's go, Joker." Ember pressed, slipping her fingers into the palm of his hand as he flinched in retaliation.

"Now _what's_ the fun in _that_?" Joker drawled, that hideous cackle falling from his parted lips as he inched towards the masked vigilante.

"Why don't we spend some- _ah, quality_ time together, Mister Batman?"

"Come _on_ , Joker!" Ember begged, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes as she imagined him being thrown into Arkham once again–being taken away from her.

"Three minute head-start, Joker." Batman dryly threatened.

" _Ooo_ , I'm _so_ scared." The clown giggled, thrusting the sharpened blade in Batman's face as he finally closed the distance.

"Fuck, Joker!" Ember scolded, her fingers lacing around the sleeve of his coat as she aimlessly tugged. "I-If you don't come with me right now, I'm leaving you."

Joker went lax, turning swiftly on his heel to face the woman as he merely laughed in response. Not that sincere, heartwarming laugh of his that she adored–no. No, this laugh was haunting, bone-chilling, and quite frankly, she was almost certain that he'd plunge his knife into the soft flesh of her neck at any given moment.

"Oh, _will_ you now?"

"Please come with me, Joker. Please. I can't have you locked up, I can't live without you—" she blabbed, Batman's jaw falling lax at her proclamation as she harshly tugged on Joker's coat. "Please."

"Two minute head-start." Batman blandly stated, still clearly stunned by Ember's statement.

Joker exchanged dark gazes between the two, a sigh falling from his lips as he clicked the blade into place in the holster, messily stuffing it into the pocket before turning on his heel.

"You're _lucky_ you have a nice tigh- _t_ pussy, darlin'." He hissed in her ear, not a lick of affection present in his tone as his shoulder harshly brushed against hers. Ember stole a final glance at the Batman, still standing firmly in place before skipping to catch up to the clown.

The duo clambered into the vehicle, an awkward tension between them as Joker ignited the engine, mumbling a strand of obscenities underneath his breath as his arm outstretched in Ember's direction.

Her heart lept into her throat as his fingers brushed against her jean-clad thigh, only to plumment in disappointment when his fingers laced around the handle of the glovebox, ripping it open to retreive a compact handgun.

Just as the van pulled from behind the alley, a familiar jet black vehicle pulled up behind them, a flashing stream of headlights blinding Ember's vision as Joker let out an amused cackle.

" _Oh_ ," he sang, waving the gun in the air as he jammed his foot onto the accelerator. "Batsy wants to _play_."

Ember flattened against her seat at the sudden shift in speed, her chest beginning to ache as Joker dangerously weaved between cars, a strand of high-pitched, hyena-like laughs echoed throughout the car, sending painful shivers down the womans spine.

Batman kept a considerable distance between them, Ember's glare glued to the rearview mirror as she intently watched his every move.

"Joker–" she shivered, only to be interrupted by another fit of menacing laughter as Joker spun around in his seat, his eyes tearing from the road as his finger applied pressure to the trigger.

Ember let out a loud scream, her palms darting upward to cover both her eyes and ears simultaneously as the glass windows on the back doors shattered. Joker's eyes still focused behind them, his left hand steering the vehicle somehow while his right sent an array of bullets in Batman's direction.

The woman's gaze refocused on the scene before her, eyes widening instantly when a petite teal car pulled directly in front of the Joker.

"JOKER!" She exclaimed, her finger pointing outward in the direction of the sudden obstruction.

Joker's neck craned, a grunt falling from his painted lips as he yanked the wheel to the left, barely missing the little teal car by several inches as Ember continued to obscenely scream.

"Shut the _fuck_ up!" He scolded, firing the pistol again through the open back window as it measly collided with Batman's bulletproof windshield.

"I want to go home!" Ember cried, her chest heaving as Joker continued to aimlessly fire at Batman. He knew that the bullets wouldn't penetrate the mans vehicle, but he was just having too much damn fun.

"Quit being a fucking _baby_."

"I'm NOT being a fucking baby!" Ember exploded.

Joker lowered the gun, a brow raising curiously as he sped down the dark roads of the innermost city of Gotham, Batman trailing further and further behind as Joker took several misleading turns down questionable roads.

At first, he said nothing. The pair had driven silently beside one another, Joker's brows knit together in a mixture of annoyance and pure anger as Ember practically trembled in her seat. She knew better than to raise her voice with him, especially during a time like this...

Surprisingly, they'd lost the Batman (whether it be his choice to leave them alone or Joker's obscene driving), and arrived at the hideout thirty-or-so minutes later. Joker still hadn't said a single word to her.

Ember unlatched her seatbelt the moment the van tumbled along that routine dirt path, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as Joker thrust the gear shift into park, leaving the engine idle as he slowly craned his neck in her direction.

"I–"

Joker propelled himself onto her, his thigh grazing the pertruding gear shift as his knee dug into the leather seat directly beside Ember's leg.

The familiar knife had found the flesh of her neck before she could protest, her eyes widening in fear as he balanced his weight between the seat and the arm of the door, his back hunched so that his painted nose sat mere centimeters from hers.

"If you ever _speak_ to me tha- _t_ way again, I swear to _fuck_ I'll slit your god _damn_ _throat_." He darkly threatened, that comforting set of beautiful brown eyes transformed into deepless pits of black as he dug the blade into her neck, limiting her air supply as she quickly nodded.

"I believe you." She stuttered, gasping for air as he retracted the knife, tongue lapping out to caress his scars as his body suddenly left hers.

Joker exited the SUV without another word, muttering incoherently under his breath as he stowed the switchblade into his pocket once again.

Ember tumbled from the vehicle, her legs violently shaking as she nearly toppled to the floor.

"I know who the Batman is." She announced, her voice uneven and raspy.

Joker immediately halted in place, one foot before the other as his shoulders lay hunched forward. His outgrown mixture of blonde and green greasy curls lay in his black-circled eyes, his gaze meeting hers with ease as he rotated on his heel.

" _Explain_?" He drawled, smacking his lips together enthusiastically as he cautiously approached the trembling woman, who propped her weight up against the van in fear that she would fall.

"I recognize his voice, and he knew my name." She squeaked, twiddling her fingers together as she shivered from a mixture of the cool air and fear.

" _And_?" Joker urged, planting his feet into the gravel a mere foot from her.

"And," Ember shook. "I'll tell you if you apologize for saying that I'm lucky I have a tight pussy. That was rude."

Joker's jaw dropped at her statement, openly scoffing as he inched closer towards her.

" _No_." He spat, gaze boring into hers deeply as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Fine. I guess Batman's identity isn't that important to you, then." Ember taunted, crossing her arms firmly across her chest as she smirked.

She was literally asking for death.

"You're such a _bitch_." Joker seethed, his hand darting outward to claim the neck of her sweatshirt as he tugged the fabric between his fingers, contorting his hand into a fist as he grabbed hold of the tiny woman. With one swift movement, he applied a fair bit of pressure, shoving her backwards with ease as her skull collided with the van.

A painful groan fell from Ember's lips, her palm shooting upwards to caress the sore skin at the back of her head as she blinked away stars. Her heartbeat quickened when the sensation of Joker's nose flattened against her own, his breath fanning over her lips as goosebumps littered her skin in response.

"Fucking _tell_ me." He begged, his forehead grazing hers as his chest heaved in anticipation.

"For someone who cares about me, you sure do hurt me quite a bit." Ember breathlessly stated, her eyelids fluttering closed to avoid Joker's harsh glare. Plus, he tend to look a bit— _creepy_ —in the moonlight.

" _Cares_ about you?" He scoffed, releasing his hold on the neck of her sweatshirt. "Oh _hunny_ , I've _fucking_ told you before. You're _nothing_ but a se- _t_ of pretty legs and a nice tigh- _t_ pussy."

Ember's eyelids fluttered open, blinking away tears as she shook her head in response.

"You don't mean that." She murmured.

" _Oh_?" Joker mocked, scars tugging up the curve of his face into a sinister smile. " _Don't_ I?"

"N-No." Ember stammered. "Because if you did, you wouldn't say all the cute things you've said to me."

Joker let out a hearty laugh, bending his knees slightly as he threw his head back in glee, tugging his neck and shoulders along with it as he practically convulsed in laughter. Once again–the mocking kind–not the kind Ember had grown to admire.

"Oh _darling_ ," Joker sang through a fit of giggles. "I've got- _ah way_ with words, don't I? You _see_ , you're so damn _predictable_ , Em- _ber_. God, all I have to _do_ is spit _out_ some kind of compli- _ment_ and your legs open _riiiight_ up."

Ember's chest began to ache, the tears freely falling down the slopes of her cheeks as she collapsed against the side of the SUV.

"You're such an ass!" She exclaimed.

"And yet, you'd let me _slip_ right into yours _without_ any question." He grinned, clearly amused by the words that left his mouth.

"I hate you." Ember cried, hands balling into fists as her gaze darkened.

" _Sure_ yah do, toots." Joker teased, kicking a nearby colored pebble aside with the toe of his shoe. "And yet, I'll have you _screaming_ my name in _less_ than an hour."

With one final burst of bravery, Ember lurched forward, pressing her palms against the mans chest as she forcefully shoved him backwards.

Joker barely budged, taking a single step back from the weak impact as his features hardened.

 _This bitch had some major balls_.

"I'm done." Ember stated, brushing past the man as she glided up the cracked sidewalk, swinging the door open before disappearing from sight.

Joker still stood in the very same spot she'd left him in when she returned less than five minutes later, two overflowing gym bags slung over her shoulders as she clutched the silver key to the Mustang in her grasp.

His eyes followed her closely, not daring to open his mouth to speak as he watched her toss the bags into the back seat, the roof of the car still tucked away into the trunk (as it always seemed to be) as she climbed into the drivers seat.

Thick, red rings circled her eyes as she messily shoved the key into the ignition, the engine roaring to life as she stole one final glance at the Joker, who still stood silently beside the van, arms laying lax at his sides as his palms curled into fists.

 _She couldn't, she wouldn't..._

"Bye, Joker." She whispered, backing from the dirt driveway before speeding off, abandoning the clown as she struggled to contain her blinding tears.

Bruce Wayne is the Batman.

* * *

 **A/N** : For those confused or questioning Batman's decision to let Joker get away, I thought it was important to let him make that decision due to Ember's presence. Of course Bruce remembers Ember, and due to his little slip-up, she knows that he's Batman now. Although he's disgusted that she'd be with someone like Joker, letting them get away was Bruce's way of protecting(?) Ember (in a sense). And no, this will not turn into some type of love triangle.

ALSO, I've stated this before in passing, this story does not follow the storyline of TDKR. Obviously, Batman goes MIA for like 8(?) years I think it is (I need to brush up on my facts), but in this story, he's not going to be MIA for that long as the series of events are altered to fit my particular storyline.

ps: Joker is an asshole but I can't help but still love him lolol. So sorry for the total trash chapter (I'm honestly not sure if I'm happy with it but it's the best I've got right now)


	28. XXVIII

_**A/N** : Helloooo, big chapter ahead. Please only read when you can give it your full attention, as there are many little details/events that may be easy to skip over. This is easily (one of, if not the most) important chapters of the entire book. _

_word count: 6438_

 _"You know that when I hate you, it is because I love you to a point of passion that unhinges my soul."_

—Julie de Lespinasse

* * *

Joker stood frozen in Ember's vacant room, his glare glued to the lipstick littered wall as his stomach churned.

That _fucking_ poem she loved so damn much vandalised the otherwise bland drywall, the words continuously haunting him as he read and reread them a million-times-over. The red lipstick reminded him of blood–sweet, sweet _blood_. Fuck, how he absolutely loved and craved the feeling of the warm liquid coating his skin. He wanted to bathe in it, play in it, make _art_ out of it.

Once he'd crashed back down to Earth, his glare studied the sloppy penmanship further, painful memories flickering in his mind as he remenisced on them.

It felt like just yesterday when he sat in his four poster bed at Evelyn's Orphanage, nearly three in the morning as he rummaged through the book of poetry. He was searching for the very best one, a poem that could speak the feelings he felt better than he ever could. He'd never forget how fucking nervous he was that entire day, fucking _quaking_ in his shoes as he awaited the very perfect moment to let it slip to his dearest Ember that he was undeniably and unequivocally in love with her.

With a staggered sigh, the man filed out of the lonely room, rounding the living room sofa as he collapsed onto the furniture directly beside his blonde henchman, Horton.

"She fucking _hates_ me, Horty." Joker murmured, aimlessly picking at the excess skin surrounding his nails.

"She doesn't hate you, boss." Horton cooed, his arm darting outward to claim the madman's shoulder. His palm rest on the bare skin, Joker's torso clad with only a dark black tank top as his head hung lowly. His features sat free of any colored greasepaint, a rare and undeniably beautiful sight.

"Yes she _does_. She _said_ so."

Horton awkwardly pat the man on his shoulder, removing his hand swiftly to avoid any further awkward tension as he twiddled his thumbs. This was the first time he'd truly spoken with Joker following his declaration of love for the man. Lucky for him, Joker treated him as if nothing had changed. Which, in turn, made the blonde boy fall even _more_ in love with him, simply for the fact that he accepted him for who he was, and did not shy away from the fact that Horton adored him with every fiber of his being.

"Hey," Horton sang, craning his neck to meet Joker's paint-free eyes as faded locks hung in his vision. "Go get her, Jackson." The name fell from his lips with ease, feeling oh-so-right to say as Horton's heart fluttered.

 _Jackson Jackson Jackson Jackson._

Joker, however, instantly stilled, vexation boiling in his veins as his gaze shifted upwards to meet his henchmans. At first, he wasn't quite sure if he'd heard him correctly. Not even Ember, the woman who'd known him as Jackson, called him by that name.

 _Why didn't she?_

" _What_ did you jus- _t_ call _me_?"

Horton's jaw fell limp, a series of stammers tumbling from his tongue as he struggled to formulate a proper sentence.

 _Fuck_.

"She fucking _told_ you my _name_?" Joker seethed, harsh trembles wracking through his limbs as he jumped up from the sofa.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir. I promise I won't ever call you it again—"

"You're- _uh, lucky_ I consider you a _friend_ , Hort." Joker mumbled, his hand cradling the lining of his jaw as his index finger and thumb collided with the skin of his lower lip, tugging the skin downward with angst as he paced the floor. Horton's heart skipped several beats at Joker's confession.

"If you tell _anyone_ ," Joker warned, waving a finger in Horton's direction. "I'll fucking _castrate_ you. Go- _t_ it?"

"Y-Yes, boss." Horton stuttered, his blue hued eyes glued to the floor as he desperately tried to push away the image of Joker even coming near his–

"Take me _to_ her, will you?" Joker ordered, snatching a purple and black checkered flannel from a nearby barcalounger, sliding the material up the curves of his arms as he shrugged it up his shoulders. Horton practically gawked at the sight, his eyes following Joker's red, black and white paint stained fingers as he delicately slid the buttons of the shirt through the holes, concealing that rather sexy tank-top of his as he took his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration.

Seeing the Joker in anything but dress shirts and that damn theatrical suit was nothing less than exhilarating. Even though the formal attire was downright sexy on him, there was just something about the casual attire that made Horton's head swim (and other things twitch...)

" _C'mon_ , pal." Joker thickly urged, running a hand through his hair as the pad of his thumb grazed the destroyed flesh of his left cheek.

* * *

Ember lay entrapped between the thick blanket of her duvet, her face buried in the fluffy pillow as she stared blankly at the wall.

Nearly three months it's been since she'd slept in this bed. The bed where she made love to Noah, the bed where she wept for months following Noah's untimely death. The bed where she'd almost— _almost_ —taken her life. The three weeks following Noah's death was an extremely dark time, and Ember had shamefully fallen into the pits of a perscription drug addiction, going a bit over the top when one night, she decided to swallow a bit too many painkillers. She was truly lucky to be alive. However, in this very moment, she felt good as dead.

She'd seen a therapist, a psychiatrist, an a grief counselor–all separate doctors. They'd helped her the best they could, and eventually, she'd found a permanent fix.

Noah's death was still somewhat painful. However, her recent shenanigans with the infamous Joker had gotten her deceased husband off of her mind entirely.

Noah would hate her for it. He always despised the criminal, disgusted by his soulless acts of terrorism and destruction.

If he somehow knew about her and The Joker, he absolutely hated her for sure. She was frolicking about with the man who was directly responsible for Noah's untimely death. The worst part? She didn't even _fucking_ care.

Noah was six-feet-under. Her Jackson was also gone, nothing but a distant memory in her teenage mind. The only person she had was The Joker, and she wasn't even able to keep him either.

It was true– _nobody_ wanted her.

She was nearly thirty-one within the next month (The fourth of April, to be exact). She had zero friends, and the only person she truly had (besides Horton, she considers Horton a friend) was gone. She'd fucked up and lost him, all because she was a selfish bitch who shamelessly liked to push his buttons.

The woman spent the next several hours in bed, well into dusk as the sun began to set behind a mess of dark clouds.

At around seven in the evening, Ember finally peeled herself from the clammy sheets, the plain white tee sticking to the sweat of her back as she trudged into the kitchen. Just as she poured the coffee grounds into a filter, a sharp knock came at the front door.

Ember froze in place, her stomach doing flips as she craned her neck in the direction of the carob tinted door.

 _If Melissa was behind that fucking door..._

Ember drug her feet along the tile, the too-long pant legs of her pajamas sliding against the floor as she cautiously approached the front door. Her trembling fingers laced around the cool handle of the door, twisting it clockwise as the lock unlatched with a click.

The air escaped her lungs entirely the moment _he_ came into view.

Lounged against the uneven bricks of the front porch, only a foot-or-so away from the door, his boot-clad feet lay crossed at the ankles. Torso clad in a black and purple checkered flannel, the sleeves slightly bunched at the wrists as his recognizable set of tattooed lines peeked through. His arms sat crossed as a hearty, toothy grin lay plastered across his paintless face. Several whisps of faded curls framed his features, his eyes sparkling as he admired the broken girl that stood before him.

" _Hiii_." Joker mused, his left eyelid flickering closed for a mere second as he winked in her direction.

 _This fucking man..._

Ember let out a sigh, crossing her arms in response as Joker practically eye-fucked her from the front porch.

"Can I- _uh_ , come _in_?"

"I suppose." Ember grunted, stepping aside to allow him entrance to her home.

Joker nodded curtly in response, uncrossing his legs as he shoved his hands deeply into his jet black jean pockets. Ember watched with raised brows as he strut into her home, his eyes flickering over the decor as Noah's destroyed face came into view on the wall.

A twinge of guilt flickered across Joker's features, exhaling loudly through his scarred lips as he leaned his back against the kitchen wall.

"Making coffee this _late_ at nigh- _t_?" He playfully mocked.

Ember shrugged in reply, resuming her actions as she began to brew her coffee. Joker stood idle along the wall, intently licking his lips as his eyes trailed along Ember's lanky body.

She wore a slightly stained (and somewhat see through) white t-shirt, along with pale pink dress pants that drug along the floor and tangled at the bottom.

"Hey- _uh, Em_ —"

"Why are you here?" Ember spat, the palms of her hands resting against the surface of the counter as she hunched her shoulders forward.

Joker's mouth went dry at her inquiry, the fight they had just last night still fresh in his mind as he contemplated picking another one.

 _Who the fuck was the Batman?_

"I–" Joker stammered, but Ember wouldn't let him finish.

"If you're not here to apologize, just fucking leave." She snipped.

"I didn't _mean_ what I _said_." He plainly put, diverting his stare to the floor as Ember's neck twisted in his direction.

"Joker, you _always_ say that, but then you just end up saying the same hurtful things over and over." She whispered, blinking away several stinging tears as she pressed her weight against the counter, propelling herself from the surface as she straightened her stance.

"Em—"

"I can't do this anymore, Joker. I can't just be a set of legs to you." Ember murmured, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers as she choked back nasty sobs.

 _Don't be such a baby, Ember._

Joker's leg rose up to meet the wall, pushing against the hard surface as he propelled himself in Ember's direction.

"You're _not_ , Ember." He exclaimed, hands outstretching to claim her elbows.

She wasn't quite having it, however. The moment his fingers brushed against her skin, she let out a yelp, tugging away from him as she backed quickly away, her lower back coming into contact with the dials of the stove as she winced in discomfort.

Joker halted in place, a look of– _hurt_?–plastered on his features as his eyes drooped.

"Don't touch me." Ember staggered, chest heaving painfully as her world began to finally crumble.

This was it. This was the end.

"I think it's best if we just—"

" _No_." Joker scolded, his index finger jabbing the tip of her nose as she stilled under his touch. "Don't _fucking_ even—"

"Please don't hurt me again." Ember cowered, eyeing his finger closely.

Joker slowly lowered his hand, his chest beginning to ache at her words.

 _Please don't hurt me again._

Joker defeatedly exited the kitchen without another word, his heart racing achingly in his chest. Ember observed as Joker strut into her living room, collapsing onto the navy plush sofa as his head fell into his hands.

"Joker?" Ember whispered, approaching the couch cautiously as she took a seat on the opposite end, careful not to get too close in case he lashed out on her again.

Joker gradually lifted his head from his hands, his eyes staring blankly ahead at the silent, moving picture of the television as he irritably tapped his foot.

"You _asked_ me what I was _afraid_ of and I said _nothing_." He confidently began, the fingers of his right hand toying with his left as his leg bounced at an even quicker pace. "I _lied_ straight through my _teeth_."

Ember inched closer to the madman, her pulse quickening as she contemplated reaching out a hand to meet his shoulder–thigh–any part of his body at all. Quite frankly, she just wanted to touch him.

"The only _thing_ in this _deranged_ world tha- _t_ I've ever been _afraid_ of is _you_. Losing _you_. Living with- _out_ you."

Joker paused, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as his gaze remained focused in front of him. He could see Ember through his peripheral vision, but he couldn't look at her. He couldn't face the rejection.

"You've- _uh_ , got your _hooks_ in me so deep and they're _never_ fucking coming ou- _t_. You've got me so _tightly_ wrapped around your finger that I can _hardly_ fucking _breathe_." He enunciated, waving his hands in the air to further express his words as he smacked his lips loudly. "You are the only good _thing_ I've ever _known_."

Ember sat dumbfounded beside him, mouth held wide open in astonishment as Joker twiddled his thumbs, now bouncing both legs in anticipation as he awaited some type of response.

 _Anything will do..._

"Hey," Ember cooed, her hand darting outward to capture his bare cheek. Joker's gaze flickered over, finally focusing on hers as his chocolate brown eyes immediately softened.

Home wasn't a place. It wasn't some luxurious building, garnished with particular items. It wasn't a specific time or instance when the memories were the fondest, all in relation to a distinct location. No–Home was an individual. A person with two legs, two arms, a set of lungs and a beating heart. Home was a woman with a crooked nose (even more so that it had been broken), prominent cheekbones and a set of identical chocolate brown orbs. Home was overgrown platinum blonde hair, the natural dark locks peeking through at the roots. Home was a pair of chapped, rosey red lips that tasted like heaven and generated acute intoxication. Home was the woman who would own and hold Jackson Napier's heart for the rest of eternity. Home was, and will always be, Ember Laine DeLoughrey.

Ember tauntingly licked her lips, her heart racing beneath her ribcage as Joker stared deeply into her soul, pulling her in with every fiber of his being as she wanted nothing more than to wrap herself so tightly around him that she'd simply suffocate.

"In another world, things would've been different." She whispered, dropping her palm to rest against the curve of his arm. With a deep breath, she continued.

"We would've married, probably at nineteen because we were just that damn impatient and so madly in love. We would've had babies, probably quite a few because we wouldn't be able to keep our hands off of each other. In another world, a normal world, you and I would've been a stereotypical family. You would've had some typical job, maybe a desk job, I dunno. I would've been a teacher or a travel agent or something of the sorts. But you know what? That's not the world I want."

Ember twitched in place, her mind visualizing that made-up fantasy world of hers. A Joker without the scars, three or four or even maybe five children, half him and half her, running around in fits of giggles. That visual, however, was not what Ember wanted anymore. It was absolutely something she could live without.

"I want the violence. I want the late nights and the uncertainty. I want the unpredictability and not knowing whether or not I'm going to live or die the next day."

Joker sat stunned beside her, eyes wild as she read his features for any possible reaction.

"As long as I wake up and see your face every single morning until my last breath, I am absolutely content." She finished, letting out a staggered breath as her fingers laced around the skin of his arm, squeezing reassuringly as her heart nearly burst from her chest.

Joker remained unmoved, not once blinking as he studied her face. She looked absolutely breathtaking, even minus a shower and with the black sunken bags underneath her eyes.

"Joker—"

Several foreign words fell from the scarred lips of the madman beside her. Words that before tonight, Ember truly thought she'd never hear again. Words that Ember was quite certain would only remain in her memory, a reminder of when times were truly good.

The proclamation, the oh-so- _perfect_ declaration of emotion tumbled from Joker's open mouth, fluttering through the air with supinity as it sent deep, raging shivers down the spine of Ember's back. It was truly a radiant sound, prompting the womans chest to swell and pulse to quicken as the statement still lingered in the air.

"I _love_ you."

A instantaneous sense of relief washed over the pair of them, an indescribable feeling overcoming the woman as the three comprehensible words repeated over and over in her head. She felt weightless–as if she'd simply managed to escape from the strict confinement of her body and floated blissfully into a world of adoration and contentment.

There was nothing simple about the phrase that tumbled from his scarred lips. She'd studied his expression, mentally captured the exact form his lips took as the words emerged from them, storing the image into the deepest pits of her mind so that she could consistently recall the visual whenever she pleased, however often she desired.

Ember was quite certain that there was truly not a more beautiful moment than this. There simply was nothing that could top this emotion. The sheer amount of ardor that resonated through the body of the most feared man in all of Gotham–and quite possibly the entire country–was practically overwhelming.

Joker craned his neck, searching Ember's blank expression with immense worry as his pulse quickened.

"Can you- _uh, say_ somethin', Em?"

The woman came crashing back down to Earth, stumbling slightly upon impact as the room began to spin.

 _The Joker loves her the Joker loves her the Joker loves her the Joker loves her the Joker loves her the Joker loves her the Joker loves her the Joker–_

"Em." Joker pressed, inching forward to cup her paling cheeks between the palms of his colorant tinted hands.

Ember's sporadic gaze finally settled upon those comforting brown eyes, contentment coursing through her veins as she went lax under his touch.

And suddenly, the words Joker had been craving to hear for over fifteen years emerged. They were even more marvelous than the first time she'd spoken them, even more gut-wrenching and pulse-quickening than ever before. The phrase clung to her lips, resonating deep through his bones as he practically melted into liquid putty upon impact.

"I love you."

 _Bliss_.

Pure, euphoric bliss.

Joker impulsively lurched forward, enveloping the frail woman in his arms with one simple motion as his lips met hers. The pair exchanged immediate sighs of gratification, manicured fingernails lacing in the oily colored ringlets that clung to Joker's skull as Ember flattened against the cushion of the sofa.

The man towered over her, balancing his weight on his knees and elbows as he ravishingly assaulted her lips with his, being not-so-gentle at all as they pried hers open with ease.

He swallowed her breathless sighs willingly as her tongue darted outward, meeting his in the middle as they danced about. His palms met her face, the pad of his left thumb tugging against the skin of her chin as he gently yanked her chin open further, allowing him more access to taste and feel every inch of her glorious mouth with his tongue.

Lord, did she taste absolutely wonderful. Her lips were like hard liquor and her tongue delivered the packing punch, sending him into an absolute frenzy as his head went fuzzy in fulfillment. She was his drug, his own personal heroin. His absolute favorite type of candy that didn't have any lasting damage.

An innocent moan toppled from the womans lips involuntarily, her legs lacing around the bones of Joker's hips as she traced the lining of his prominent jaw with her finger.

Joker detached his swollen lips from hers, peppering soft, torturous kisses along the skin of her cheek and jaw before dipping downward into the crease of her neck.

Ember let out an additional (this time, intentional) moan of satisfaction, tilting her head back in ecstacy as her eyes screwed shut in tranquility. Her action allowed the man more access to her neck, his hand cupping her jaw as he held her head in place, ensuring that she wouldn't be able to squirm away from his prying lips.

An array of goosebumps coated the entirety of her body at the feeling of his scars against her neck. She twisted several strands of his hair between her fingers, tugging ever-so-slightly to emit that absolutely glorious moan from him that she so desperately craved.

A grin crept onto her lips when the deep sound resonated through his chest, vibrating against the bruising flesh of her neck as his hips bucked against hers.

Ember whined at the sudden contact, that familiar warm feeling growing in the pits of her belly as she drifted into a euphoric state. Funny how he wasn't even touching her, how both of them lay fully clothed and were only kissing, and she already felt so absolutely _relieved_...

She ground her hips upwards in response, signalling that she, too, wanted exactly _that_ as she delivered another tug to his curls.

" _Fuck_ , Em." Joker rasped, taking the skin of her neck between his teeth as he delicately tugged. "You're so- _ah, impatient._ "

"Always ready for you, remember?" She breathlessly spoke, swiftly reattaching her lips to his with a simple crane of her neck as he openly sighed into her mouth.

"I'm- _uh, sorry_ for everything I said." He muttered into her mouth, still caressing her jaw with his thumb, tracing circles against the skin.

"It's alright." Ember murmured, claiming the top several buttons of his flannel, ripping them open with ease as his hands gently tore her shirt from her torso.

"I mean it's not, but I get it. It's okay."

"Wasting no _time_ , I see." Joker chuckled, disregarding her comment as he shrugged out of his flannel, lifting the tank top from his body in one fluid motion.

Ember's gaze settled upon the silver chain that reconnected with the tiny inconsistent patches of hair that littered his chest. Her lips curled into a grin as she took the paper plane pendant between two fingers, her thumb tracing the indents and curves of the object.

"Everyday?" She whispered, the necklace falling from her grasp as Joker urged her to lift her arms, wanting her shirt to be removed at once.

" _Always_."

She obliged, lifting her back from the sofa to allow him access to the fabric as it ripped from her body, disheveling her already messy strands of her as her identical necklace fell between the curve of her breasts.

"No _bra_?" Joker snickered, eyes brightening in amusement as he took in the sight of her.

"Oh shush." Ember playfully swatted at his bare chest, curling her hands around the base of his neck as she tugged his face back down to hers.

Ember's pajama pants slid down the length of her legs as Joker tugged open the button on his trousers, freeing himself of the constricting material as the clothes fell to the floor in a growing pile.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your face?" Ember wondered.

Joker halted his actions, a sincere grin slapping across his features as that chuckle–that laugh she oh-so-absolutely adored–fell from his lips.

"Without the makeup, I mean."

"So you're- _uh, telling_ me I look _ugly_ with it?" He teased, placing a simple, closed-mouth kiss to her lips before harshly pulling away.

"No! I didn't mean—"

Joker silenced her with his lips once again, her toes curling at the sensation of his smiling mouth pressed against hers tossed her into a frenzy.

A gasp fell from Ember's lips the moment his fingers pried her panties to the side, grazing against the sensitive skin lightly as she writhed beneath his touch.

"J-Joker–" she gasped, only to let out a cry when he lowered himself quickly, immediately pressing his scarred lips to her burning core without warning. He maneuvered the small, laced material down the length of her legs before discarding it entirely.

His hands cupped the back of her thighs, spreading her legs further apart to allow him more access as she squirmed against him, a strand of unattainable sounds tumbling from her mouth.

 _God, did he really know the ways around her body..._

She began to see stars, her back arching in immense pleasure as her hands darted outward, in search of anything–everything–something to possibly grip on to. The sensation was overbearing, an array of colors–blues, purples, reds, yellows, pinks–littered her mind as she drifted into a state she'd never quite known, never truly experienced. He'd introduced her to a world she'd never seen. He'd shown her colors that she'd once been blind to. He wrote poems between her legs with his tongue, a series of words and phrases and lyrics that put any others she'd known and heard before to absolute shame.

"I-I'm close—" she shamefully confessed, her breaths emerging in staggered pants as she struggled to hold it in.

Suddenly, the sensation dissipated.

The poems ceased, the vibrant colors fading into black as that wonderful, oh so glorious feeling immediately vanished, an immute whine falling from her lips as Joker's hands firmly gripped onto her hips.

Wordlessly, the woman flipped from back to belly, balancing on all fours as she gripped onto the arm rest of the sofa, desperately awaiting the return of that oh so fucking _perfect_ feeling...

His touch returned to her hipbones, palms latching onto the skin as if they were handles of some sort as his lips gently grazed along the small of her back, gliding _up-up-up_ until they met the inbetween of her shoulder blades. She released a contentful sigh as his tongue lapped out to taste her flesh, the sigh transforming into a squeak when he slowly rocked into her.

The man let out a low grunt upon impact, his breaths growing short and staggered as his fingers left behind bruises in their wake.

Her fingers curled against the material of the sofa, creating indents against the fabric as her eyes practically rolled backwards in her head.

Typically, he was not gentle with her. For the first time ever, (well since their actual first time ever), he took his sweet-ole-time, rocking in and out of her in full–slow–agonizing thrusts as his fingers tightened their hold on her hips.

He breathed heavily behind her, jaw laying low in concentration as his face lowered to meet her back once again, painting her back with invisible wet kisses as he prompted tiny, breathless moans to erupt from the woman below him.

He plunged deeper inside of her, hitting that particular spot deep within her as a yelp of surprise tumbled from her lips.

 _It had been quite a while since someone had struck that spot..._

"Oh _fuck_ –"

Joker picked up the pace slightly, repeatedly striking that overly sensitive spot of hers as she loudly cried out every single time he came into contact with it. The sound of her pleasurable cries stirred something deep within him, involuntary groans falling from his lips in response as he bucked into her.

The feeling in Ember's legs nearly vanished entirely, her limbs resembling that of putty as she let out a chorus of inaudible phrases. Oh, was she _so_ fucking close–and she could barely even utter a noise–a sound– _anything_ at all to signal him of her upcoming release.

Joker's head lulled back in ecstacy, eyes screwing shut as he effortlessly rocked into her, his thumb swiping against the place where they lay connected as she let out a shrill shout in response.

That single noise alone was enough to send him over the edge, the tightening sensation in his lower abdomen becoming extremely overbearing as he refused to hold it in any longer.

With an equal unison exhale, both Ember and Joker rode out their highs, several whines falling from her lips as he collapsed against the small of her back with a low moan. His left hand darted upwards, claiming the skin of her shoulder as he took a bit between his fingers, squeezing tightly as he struggled to come down from his high.

The pair lay in an equally tranquil state, both drifting off into their own little lands of extreme pleasure and satisfaction as Joker rest his weight against her back, ultimately defeated from their expeditious round of lovemaking.

Several moments later, once the man was finally able to somewhat regain his strength, he pulled swiftly out of her, peppering loving kisses along every inch of her skin as she moaned in response.

"Oh _Em_ ," he murmured, brushing her fallen locks away from her face with difficulty as she lay lax against the arm of the sofa. His fingers revealed her reddened cheek, sighs of content tumbling from her lips as he pressed a simple kiss to her face. "I'd say that was some good- _uh_ , make _up_ sex, wasn't i- _t_?" He teased.

* * *

"Stop it!" Ember giggled, swatting Joker's hand away as she re-positioned herself underneath the steady stream of balmy water.

"Oh _c'mon_ , babe." Joker rasped, his arms snaking around her waist as his chin claimed it's spot along the curve of her shoulder. "Don't be such- _ah party_ pooper."

Ember twisted carefully on her heel, being overly cautious about the slippery floor of the shower as she turned to face him.

He towered over her slightly–wet, flattened ringlets falling into his gleaming eyes as a smirk tugged at his bare scars, flashing a toothy grin in her direction.

"Kiss me." He softly ordered, his thumb encouragingly tracing the lining of her jaw as she leaned forward in response, connecting their lips with a giggle as her arms curled naturally around his neck.

Ember's fingers comfortably twisted into the soaked hairs that sat attached to his skull, an immediate groan falling into her mouth at once as she smiled against his lips.

Their bare bodies pressed firmly against one anothers, the heavenly feeling of skin-on-skin propelling them both into an immediate state of relaxation as she molded into his embrace.

"I love this feeling." She openly admitted, detaching her lips from his.

Joker's stare focused solely on her swollen lips, tugging his bottom one between his teeth as he instantly craved the feeling once again.

" _What_ feeling?" He taunted, knowing quite well what she was referring to. "The feeling of my _extremely_ hard _dick_ between your legs?"

Ember playfully smacked that smirk of his clean off his face, her jaw ajar in mock shock as she burst into a fit of laughter.

"No." She drawled, pressing an additional kiss to the hollow skin between his collarbone and chest. "The feeling of our bare bodies touching." Ember whispered against his collar.

" _Mmm_." He merely sighed in response, his hand weaving into the tangled locks of her wettened hair. She went limp under his touch, resting her cheek against his chest as her nose tickled the base of his neck.

Joker pressed a petite kiss to her forehead before resting the left side of his face against the top of her head, fingers toying with the knotted strands of her hair as they rocked back and forth in place.

"Can I _wash_ you?" He interrupted the comforting silence, his voice low and unsure as his fingers continued to brush through her hair.

Ember lifted her head from his shoulder, brows raised curiously as a simple giggle emerged from her.

"Be my guest."

Ember watched intently as Joker snatched up a nearby bottle of raspberry scented body wash, prying open the cap with somewhat shaking fingers as he squeezed a quarter-size amount into the palm of his hand.

With a grunt, he replaced the bottle to its home, vigorously rubbing the palms of his hands together to lather the soap.

Ember slyly watched as the man fell to his knees before her, shooting her a seductive grin before lacing his palms around the curves of her legs, massaging the soap into her skin.

The woman stood awkwardly frozen in place, unsure of what to do with her hands as he traveled upwards, continuously coating her flesh with the liquid soap as he pressed an occasional sloppy kiss to her skin in random places.

Joker's tongue routinely darted out, claiming the marred skin of his face as he intently cleaned his lady, the palms of his hands gliding over her hips with ease as he found the indent in the center of her belly.

With a slight chuckle, the man slipped the tip of his index finger tauntingly into her belly button, earning a confused yet amused glare from the woman as he merely laughed.

Finally, his lips found hers once again, breathing life into her as she melted into goo under his intoxicating touch.

 _There was truly no greater feeling._

His hands cupped the curve of her ass, tugging her tiny body closer to his as their skin touched once more. Oh, how euphorically _blissful_ it was...

Here she was, stark naked with Gotham's most wanted criminal. She had to admit, it was quite riveting, really.

The man pressed against her nude body was feared by nearly every inhabitant of the city and its outskirts. People feared him, hated him, were absolutely disgusted by him, and here she stood: Her lips feverishly attacking his, fingers gripping onto the skin of his shoulders as she attempted to pull him even closer (if that were even remotely possible at this point).

It was absolutely heavenly.

Joker's hands tangled once again in her knotted hair, pulling her face to his as their noses somewhat painfully collided, emitting a groan from the woman as her nose still hadn't quite properly healed.

The water continued to coat the small of Ember's back, an abundance of steam clouding the small interior shower as the duo swallowed each others breathless sighs.

"I'm so happy I found you again." She whimpered against his lips, burying her hands in the sopping curls that clung to his neck.

"I'm so happy I _kidnapped_ you." Joker mused, a sincere, deep chuckle slipping through his swollen lips as the woman covered them once more with hers.

The kiss became very heated rather quick, Ember's fingers tugging at the bare skin of his back as his lips trailed down to her neck, sucking and nipping harshly at the skin.

In no time at all, Ember found herself plastered against the frigid tile of the shower wall, her lanky legs latched around the bend of Joker's back as she clung onto him for dear life.

His lips parted, tongue lapping out to meet hers as his fingers found their way to the spot she needed him–the spot where she craved him the absolute most.

Breathless sighs–open-mouthed kisses–a plethora of pleasure coursed through their every vein as they molded into one once again.

Ember stirred a fair amount of cream into her black coffee, the color transforming several shades lighter as she sang an unrecognizable tune under her breath.

Joker's oversized flannel clung to her skin, buttons left open as her matching lime green lace bra and panty set sat on full display.

A hand met her hip, gently tugging her backwards from the counter as she let out an audible sigh.

Her neck rolled back, meeting the firm, welcoming chest of her darling sweetheart as she cradled the steaming mug of coffee in her hands.

"Come back _home_ with me." Joker huskily whispered in her ear, drawing circles along the bare flesh of her side as his hot breath ignited a patch of goosebumps along her jaw.

"Yes sir." She purred, craning her neck to meet his face as she planted a kiss onto his mouth.

"I'll always be yours." Ember lowly added.

"And I _yours_."

Ember twisted on her heel, the mug resting on the counter as she laced her arms around Joker's bare shoulders.

She could really get used to this bare face of his everyday.

"I have something to tell you." She whispered, pressing a closed-mouth kiss to the corner of his lips, crazing the destroyed flesh of his cheek slightly.

" _Oh_?" Joker raised a brow. "And what's _that_?"

Ember let out a deep sigh, taking her botton lip between her teeth as she struggled to spit the words out. Her statement would surely change everything, forever.

There was no going back.

"Bruce Wayne is the Batman."

* * *

 **A/N** : Okayyyyyy.. LOTS of stuff happened in this chapter! (And I'm still crying)! There are quite a few quotes in here that I'm literally obsessed with, and I hope you guys will be too!

Until next time. xo, allie


	29. XXIX

**A/N:** No Joker. Just a small chapter with some insight to Bruce Ember's brief relationship. (So sorry for any disappointment, this small snippet is essential to the story).

 _"Summer bachelors like summer breezes, are never as cool as they pretend to be."_

—Nora Ephron

* * *

 _Let's rewind the clocks back a bit..._

"Navy or teal?"

Ember squinted slightly, arms crossed as her vision bounced between the identical tops held in each of Mallory's hands. One navy, and one teal, respectively.

"Teal?" She lightly suggested, earning a darkened glare from Mallory as she clearly disapproved.

"Really? But look at the navy one! It's absolutely _gorg_."

Ember threw her arms up in defeat, rolling her eyes as she took a seat on a nearby creme colored leather chair, sinking deeply into the material. "I don't know, Mal. Just pick one, or buy both."

Mallory sighed, placing the teal top back onto the rack as she brushed a loose brunette strand of hair from her bright green eyes.

"Navy wins, I guess. You're still paying, right?"

"Yes, Mal. I told you it's your birthday present." Ember reassured the petite woman, rising from the seat as she shuffled through her patterned purse, retrieving a matted wallet. Mallory led the woman to the cashier, who was a teenage girl with a bit too much blue eyeshadow and bright red overlined lips.

Ember grimaced as the teenage girl smacked her gum impolitely, scanning the article of clothing as Ember eyed the price.

 _Seventy-two dollars?_

The woman shifted uncomfortably in place, eyeing a rather giddy Mallory as she gleamed at the sight of her new top.

"That'll be seventy-two fifty." The teenager blandly stated, smacking her gum again.

With a hesitant hand, Ember positioned the card above the slot, sliding it quickly as the machine beeped in response.

"Uh, ma'am," The teenager stammered. "Your card declined."

 _Tomorrow was pay day._

"Fuck," Ember grunted. "We don't get paid until tomorrow, Mallory. I don't have enough."

"It's on me."

Both Mallory and Ember spun on their heels, glancing in the direction of the sudden deep voice that had emerged from behind them.

Gotham's infamous Bruce Wayne smiled curtly, dressed cleanly in a pinstripe gray suit, a flourescent red credit card laced between his fingers.

"N-No, it's okay, sir." Ember stuttered, but Bruce silently insisted, brushing against the womans shoulder as he simply slid his card, purchasing Mallory's shirt for her.

"I insist." He politely pressed, his thin lips curling into a sincere grin. "Bruce Wayne." He outstretched an arm, Ember's eyes widening as she forgot how to function entirely.

"Y-Yeah, I know." She stuttered, shakily taking his hand in hers as an open-mouthed Mallory stood beside her. "Ember DeLoughrey. This is my friend, Mallory Eaton."

"Pleasure." Mallory drawled, capturing Bruce's hand in hers the moment Ember's fingers slipped out of his.

"Would you ladies be interested in grabbing a bite to eat?" Bruce offered, snatching the receipt from the cashiers hand with ease as he thrust the shopping bag into Mallory's grasp.

"Oh! I actually have a shift in an hour, but Ember has the day off!" Mallory cheered, pressing the palm of her hand against Ember's lower back, applying a bit of pressure as she shrugged the woman closer to Bruce. Ember tripped over the toe of her shoe, nearly stumbling forward and onto the sharply dressed man as his arms impulsively darted outward in preperation to catch her.

"Sorry," Ember murmured. "I'm a little clumsy."

"No worries." Bruce gleamed. "So, how about that meal?"

* * *

"Do you enjoy working as a waitress?" Bruce wondered, spooning a forkful of garlic mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"It's alright. Sometimes I feel like I could be doing something better with my life." Ember shyly admitted, aimlessly pushing the buttered noodles around on her decorative plate.

Bruce had bought her a quite elegant sparkled black dress, which cut off mid-thigh and clung nicely to her hips. Although she insisted that he didn't buy it for her, just like Mallory's shirt, he fucking _insisted._

Ember couldn't deny the extreme attraction she felt towards the billionaire. He was absolutely flawless, strutting a jawline so sharp that it could cut glass. A mess of butterflies erupted in her belly everytime she made eye contact with him, and her toes curled at the sound of her name falling from his lips.

By far, Ember's biggest flaw was falling deeply into the pits of admiration way too quickly...

"Everything okay? You're awfully quiet." Bruce pried.

"Can I be honest with you, Mr. Wayne?" Ember wondered, her voice wavering as she continued to shove noodles around the surface of her plate.

"Call me Bruce. And yes, of course."

"Bruce," Ember stammered, avoiding his piercing gaze. "I'm not quite sure if I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

"Who said anything about a relationship?" He cheekily replied.

* * *

Ember stumbled into work late the following day, her sloppily dyed platinum ponytail tumbling from the rubber restraint as Mallory raised a suspicious brow.

"Jesus, Em. Everything alright?" She demanded, eyes immediately widening at the sight of a deep, purple bruise along the crease of Ember's neck. "Holy _shit_."

"What?" Ember panicked, growing slightly worried by Mallory's suggestive stare at her neck.

"You've got quite the hickey, bud." Mallory giggled, tossing her periwinkle lunch bag into the staff room refrigerator as she stole another glance at the bruise. "Care to share?"

Ember's hand darted upwards, claiming the tainted flesh of her neck as she rummaged through her purse in search of a compact mirror.

Her jaw fell agape at the sight of the bruise, about a quarter in size at the base of her neck, leading directly into her collarbone. She prodded at the discoloration, running the pads of her fingers along the skin as her mind flickered back to the vivid memories from last night.

Lots of rolling around... kissing... _touching_... feeling... _sucking_...

"Earth to Ember!" Mallory chanted, clearly amused by the situation as she waved a freckled hand in the womans face.

Ember blinked several times, gulping loudly before closing the mirror with a loud snap and returning it to the depths of her purse.

"You gonna tell me who gave it to you?" Her friend nosily wondered, leaning against the withered white table in the center of the rather dainty break room.

"You wouldn't believe me if I did." Ember sighed, prying open a nearby metal locker as she maneuvered her bag into the compact space.

"Oh c'mon, just tell me." Mallory begged, arms crossed as she irritably stomped her foot. Ember couldn't deny it, Mallory was her closest friend. However, she had a very bad habit of keeping her mouth shut on certain topics.

"You can't tell _anyone_." Ember pressed, sealing the locker with an old rusted lock as she thrust her pointer finger in Mallory's direction.

Mallory mockingly tossed her hands into the air in surrender, shaking her head. "My lips are sealed. Spill!"

Ember let out an exasperated sigh, shuffling her weight from one foot to the other as her fingers instinctively darted upwards, claiming the paper plane pendant that clung to her neck. She turned the plane between her fingers, analyzing the deep grooves of the shape as she always did when she felt anxious. That damn necklace always seemed to soothe her, no matter what the problem was. It was as if the simple object was her natural healer.

"I slept with Bruce."

Mallory's eyes widened, a loud cackle tumbling from her lips in response.

"Fucking _Wayne_? You're joking!"

"I wish I was." Ember dryly replied. "He's a total manwhore, isn't he? God, I'm just as pitiful as any other woman whose fallen under his trap. He makes it so easy."

"Dude, I'm actually really fucking jealous right now." Mallory spat, arms crossing once again. "He's a total babe, you've definitely scored."

Ember merely shook her head in response. "I didn't score anything. It was probably just a one-time deal." She said with a frown.

"Either way, you fucked Gotham's richest man, _and_ you have a hickey to prove it! That deserves a pat on the back!" Mallory gushed, approaching Ember with three large strides as the palm of her hand came into contact with her friends shoulder.

"DeLoughrey, Eaton."

Both women stilled, their blood running cold at the sound of their thirty-four year old boss, Karen.

"Get to work." The pissed woman snipped, excusing herself from the room without another word as both Mallory and Ember retrieved their aprons from a nearby rack.

Ember shuffled out of the room, reentering the restaurant as she quickly tucked the loose strands of hair back into place, fully aware of the hideous bruise on her neck as she made her way towards her section of tables.

She smoothed out the wrinkles in her apron with the palms of her hands, breathing quite deeply from lack of proper exercise as she approached her only occupied table.

Her light gaze settled upon the tables occupant, which was none-other than the creator of the violent bruise on her neck. The air escaped her lungs at the sight of him, her legs turning to putty as she contemplated turning back around and walking away. However, she'd already been spotted.

"Good afternoon, Miss DeLoughrey." Bruce greeted, his hands crossed on top of the table as his gaze flickered in the direction of the seat opposite him.

Ember glanced over her shoulder, searching for any sign of Mallory (or worse, fucking Karen) before approaching the table.

To Bruce's dismay, she did not even acknowledge him, nor take a seat across from him. Instead, Ember simply fished her pad of paper and a black ball-point pen from the pocket of her apron, clearing her throat anxiously before speaking.

"Hello, sir. Can I start you off with something to drink?" She stuttered, her voice failing her as she nearly combusted. Bruce simply smiled in response, uncrossing his hands as he eyed a nearby menu.

"Just water is fine for now." He said, his glare diverting to the fresh bruise above her collar. A sinister grin crept onto his lips, a chuckle wracking through his chest at the sight of it.

Ember shook violently in her non-slip shoes, seconds away from bursting into tears from extreme embarrassment. She wasn't quite sure what had gotten into her last night, but she was a bit— _kinky_ —with the man.

"You don't have to be nervous around me, Ember. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You're beautiful." Bruce lightly assured the woman.

Ember melted from his words alone, a certain warmth overcoming her every limb as she lowered into the booth opposite him.

"I had a really good time last night." She revealed with a quivering voice.

Bruce outstretched a hand, claiming her shivering fingers in his. "I did too. Let me treat you to dinner again, but this time, at my place?" He offered.

Ember's heart painfully thudded against her ribcage, the idea of eating an isolated dinner at Bruce's mansion made her head swim. They hadn't even fucked at his house last night, shamefully. Good thing his driver had a tinted window to shield him from the show...

"S-Sure."

"Great. I'll see you next Tuesday."

* * *

"This is honestly the best chicken parmesan I've ever had." Ember gloated through a stuffed mouth, discarding her table manners entirely as she devoured the prepared meal.

Bruce chuckled from the opposite end of the oddly long wooden table.

"Alfred is quite a great cook." He mused.

"Yes, he is." Ember giggled, finishing off the remainder of her supper before wiping her lips with a freshly cleaned creme tinted cloth napkin.

Bruce finished his food in silence, stealing an occasional glance at the woman across from him as Alfred returned to wordlessly collect their empty dishes.

Ember and Bruce sat in an odd silence following Alfred's departure. Ember's bottom lip sat pulled between her teeth as she chewed mindlessly on the skin, whereas Bruce stirred in his seat. The tension between them was absolutely riveting.

Then, Ember did the unthinkable. It was as if she was an entirely different person around Bruce Wayne, a person who had absolutely no fear.

She discarded her napkin onto the table, pulling her knees upward to meet the surface as her dainty dress rode up her thighs.

Bruce's eyes widened at her actions, observing the scene at hand with amusement as Ember literally fucking crawled on all fours along the length of the table. Several giggles fell from the womans lips as she hurriedly approached the sharply dressed man, cupping the back of his neck with her palm as she abruptly shoved her lips to his.

Their teeth clattered together upon impact, his hands darting upward to claim her face as she immediately deepened the kiss, desperately prying open his lips with hers as a small moan tumbled from her mouth.

Bruce kicked the chair out from beneath him, his hands traveling to her waist as he tugged her forward, repositioning the woman so that she lay perfectly beneath him on the table.

His coat slipped down the length of his arms, pooling at his feet as his lips promptly returned to hers.

"How 'bout I give that little hickey of yours a friend?"

* * *

Two months.

Ember's been wrapped up in all things Bruce fucking Wayne for two entire months. Although it had been that long, they'd only had sex seven times. Those seven times were quite glorious, though.

She knew quite well that what they had was solely physical. It was routine, really. He'd treat her to a nice dinner, then screw her brains out in varied locations immediately after. It was just one of those no-strings-attached flings.

However, for Ember Laine DeLoughrey, there was no such thing as no-strings-attached. Hell, if someone offered her a compliment, she'd tie a little string around them for it. She practically fell in love with Bruce the moment he laid eyes on her.

It was somewhat pitiful how easily she fell for people. However, no matter who they were, or how deeply in love she'd fall, if her darling Jackson somehow managed to reappear in her life, she'd drop her current beau in an absolute heartbeat.

Her heart would always belong to Jackson.

"How are things between you and Brucie?" Mallory taunted, rolling the sparkling clean silverware up inside a cloth napkin with ease.

Ember sat opposite her, adding another perfectly rolled silverware set to her pile as she shrugged.

"It's just routine. We eat dinner, fuck, and start all over like a week or week and a half later." She blandly replied.

"Damn girl, you've got yourself a sugar daddy." Mallory joked.

"I wish," Ember muttered. "He just buys me dinner. That's it."

"Hey, he's on the television." Mallory observed, thrusting her finger in the direction of the flatscreen clinging loosely to the wall directly behind Ember. She twisted in her chair, halting her actions to see the man she so helplessly loved on the TV.

Her heart fluttered at the sight of him, dressed in a usual high-quality suit he typically wore. Her heart plummeted, however, when her gaze settled upon a leggy blonde clinging to his right arm.

Him and the interviewer exchanged several words, and when they were finished, Bruce pressed a kiss to the blonde's cheek before the camera panned in a different direction.

Ember visibly stiffened, the air escaping her lungs as she avoided Mallory's sympathetic glare. She should've expected this.

"I'm sorry, Em." Her friend whispered.

"Don't be."


	30. XXX

_"When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love."_

—J.K. Rowling

* * *

 _Bruce Wayne is the Batman._

 _The Batman is Bruce Wayne._

 _Bruce Wayne, the billionaire industrialist and notorious playboy, dressed up as a fucking_ bat _at night and attempted to diminish the amount of crime in Gotham._

 _Bruce fucking Wayne is the Batman!_

"Joker?" Ember whispered, her hands claiming his as he stood dumbfounded in the kitchen.

His chocolate brown eyes sat widened, hardly blinking as he struggled to comprehend the information he had been given.

 _Out of all people..._

"Bruce _Wayne_?" Joker murmured, his gaze settling upon Ember's as her palms cupped his destroyed cheeks.

"Is it really that much of a surprise?" Ember chuckled, her left thumb tracing circles against the deep folds of his matted flesh as his tongue snaked outward, grazing her skin as she caressed his scars.

"Just a _bit_." He stated, turning his head slightly to press a soft kiss against the palm of her hand before prying himself from her grasp. Joker diligently paced the tiled kitchen floor, his bottom lip tugged between his index finger and thumb as he muttered incoherently under his breath.

"How d'you- _uh, know_?" He finally inquired, freezing in place as his stare settled upon the squirming woman once more.

Ember merely chuckled, lacing her lanky fingers around the handle of the coffee mug before bringing it to her lips. Joker stared, growing rather impatient with her as the lukewarm liquid coated her throat.

"If I'm being honest," Ember began, cupping the mug between both hands. "He's a bit of a _growler_ in bed. Batman's voice sounded very similar, that's how I knew."

Once again, Joker's expression faltered, an appalled look plastered on his features as his jaw fell ajar.

"In _bed_?" He pressed, brows raising in a mixture of curiousity and– _jealousy_?

"Oh," Ember chirped, fiddling with the handle of her mug before returning it to the safety of the counter. "Yeah. I—uh—had a bit of a— _thing_ —with him before I met Noah."

"You _fucked_ Bruce Wayne?" He scolded, index finger jabbed in her direction. "You _fucked_ Bruce Wayne—fucking _Batman_ , and didn't _tell_ me?"

Ember threw her arms up in defense, growing a bit agitated by Joker's reaction to her confession. "Why would I need to tell you? It was like, seven years ago! What does it matter?" She countered.

Joker merely shook his head from side to side, faded curls tickling the skin of his jaw as his gaze diverted to the floor, his feet shuffling in circles as he paced the dinky room once again.

"Doesn't _matter_. It _doesn't_." He murmured, the familiar sight of his scars broadening with the pronunciation of the " _t_ " in " _doesn't_ " sent shivers down Ember's spine. Admittedly, she loved the facial expressions he made when enunciating his words.

"Baby," Ember cooed, cautiously approaching the ticked-off man. "Are you _jealous_?"

Joker's neck snapped upwards, darkened gaze instantly meeting hers as he let out a mocking laugh.

" _Jealous_?" He scoffed. " _Me_? Fuck, Em. Don't be- _uh_ , fucking _dumb_."

"It's okay if you are, Joker. You're human, it's normal to feel jealous about the love of your life sleeping with other men—"

Joker lunged at her unexpectedly, the small of her back colliding painfully with the counter as she let out a slight squeak. His torso flattened against hers, fingers lacing in her knotted hair as his nose grazed hers. An array of goosebumps appeared on her skin at the feeling of his hot breath against her mouth. Ember's bottom lip quivered, an extreme desire to press her mouth against his wracking through her bones. He, however, had entirely different plans. The hair he'd taken between his fingers tightened, causing Ember to wince in discomfort as he harshly tugged.

"I am no- _t_ jealous, sweet _heart_." Joker lowly hissed, his scarred bottom lip grazing hers lightly. The hairs on the back of her neck stood tall at the sensation, a mixture of fear and adoration settling in as she began to violently crave his lips.

"Are you sure?" She egged on, clearly enjoying their little dispute as his hold tightened on her hair.

"Y'know, Em," Joker growled, that damn tongue routinely darting outward. "I've- _uh_ , fucked so _many_ women..."

Ember stiffened beneath his hold, clearly remembering the comparison between their age and the amount of pussies he's sunk himself into. She avoided his glare, his fingers detaching from her locks as they settled upon her chin, tugging her face forward.

" _Look at me._ " He softly grunted, pinching her jaw between his grasp as he forced her to look at him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, smacking his lips together intently as his gaze lay solely on her chapped lips.

" _So_ , if you think I'm even remote- _ly_ jealous of you're- _uh, pitiful_ body count, remember the thirty _darling_ pussies I've been in. Go- _t it_?"

Ember swiftly nodded beneath his hold, blinking away hot tears as his hand left her face. She collapsed against the counter at the sudden absence of his body, her knees wobbling as she balanced herself against the granite counter top with the palms of her hands.

Joker, once again, began to pace the kitchen, hands on his hips as faded ringlets lay in his eyes.

"Little Brucie is Bat- _man_. How _lovely_." Joker drawled, halting in front of the doorway as he glanced in Ember's direction. "Hey- _uh, toots_?"

"Yeah?" Ember murmured.

"Let's go _home_."

* * *

"What's up with him?" Horton wondered.

Joker paced the living room, weaving in and out of the kitchen as he collected random, scattered items from the rooms. He tucked a map of Gotham tightly underneath his armpit, along with a handful of assorted pens held tightly in his clutch. His face was masked once again by thick greasepaint, concealing his flawless features as he muttered under his breath.

"I told him who Batman is. He's been weird ever since. Would barely even talk to me the whole drive back, kept muttering to himself and shit." Ember simply shrugged, eyes glued to the television as Horton intently observed the theatrical man.

Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of pacing, Joker excused himself from the room, disappearing down the hallway as his bedroom door closed with an obscene _bang_.

Both Horton and Ember instinctively flinched at the noise, exchanging puzzled glances as the blonde boy relaxed in his seat.

"So," he began, toying with the hem of his purple sweater. "How do you know Batman's true identity?"

"I used to fuck him."

Horton's jaw dropped dramatically at her response.

"Jesus, Em. You fuck everyone!"

Ember let out an enthusiastic chuckle at Horton's reaction, her fingers fiddling with the loose strand on the knee of her destroyed skinny jeans as she sat cross-legged on the opposite side of the sofa.

"No, silly." She giggled. "Bruce Wayne is Batman."

Horton lunged forward in his seat, eyes widened in shock as he struggled to formulate a sentence. Although the news wasn't too shocking, (considering Batman always had such high-quality, easily expensive gear), to actually have confirmation on his identity was— _strange_.

"What does Joker think about it?" He asked.

"I dunno. He was surprised, for sure." Ember explained. "He's kinda all over the place. We had an interesting night."

Horton raised a perplexed brow, but decided against further discussing the topic. The image of Joker's face between Ember's legs was still quite fresh in his mind, and he didn't want to hear any— _details_ —about the possible sensual night they'd shared.

 _If only he could've slithered right between them..._

"How've you been, Hort?" Ember politely inquired, flashing him a toothy grin as he shook his head, ridding his mind of the graphic visual of him and Joker and— _Ember_.

 _He had to admit, she was effortlessly gorgeous..._

"I've been alright." He assured her. "I just feel a little awkward around him sometimes now. I hope he doesn't think I'm a freak, or something."

"You know how much he hates that word, Hort. He'd never say that to you, or even think it, for that matter." Ember scolded, inching closer to the portly henchman as he stiffened in his seat.

The woman froze in place, an indistinguishable weight compressing her chest at his obvious state of discomfort.

"I saw you two." He lowly confirmed.

Ember's heartbeat accelerated, her lips parting to allow words to escape, but he spoke before she was able to.

"That day when you found me and I confessed my feelings for Joker. I ran away because I saw his—his face—between your—"

"Oh God," Ember rasped, her palms claiming her mouth as she masked her horrified expression. "Horton, you _didn't_ —"

He nodded slowly, gaze fixated on the heavily stained carpet floor as he twiddled his thumbs.

"I know I should've knocked or something. You must be so embarrassed."

"I can't imagine how much that must've hurt." Ember whispered. "I'm so sorry you had to see that, Hort. If I would've known—"

"No." Horton immediately scolded, his blueish-green gaze boring into hers. "Don't treat me any differently because of this. I know I might act jealous, but don't censor yourself and your relationship with the boss because of me. I know he wouldn't be too pleased about that, anyways."

"I can't stand hurting you, Horton." Ember admitted, her fingers lacing around the sleeve of his sweater as she lightly squeezed. "I don't want to hurt you. What kind of person am I, to strut in here only two months ago and steal your man—"

"He wasn't mine to begin with." Horton countered. "He was always yours. He's always belonged to you."

"But—"

"Ember," Horton pressed, turning his body to face her fully. "That man has worn that paper plane necklace you both have for years. He has never taken it off. If that doesn't prove to you that he's remained absolutely faithful, I don't know what to tell you."

"But he hasn't remained faithful, nor have I." Ember argued. "He's fucked so many women... so many... and I've slept with Bruce an a few other nameless guys. I got married. I married Noah, and I wore this fucking necklace in our wedding, but I still married him and didn't even try to reach out to him or try to find him!"

"Did you change your last name back to DeLoughrey after Noah died?" Horton swiftly shifted the subject.

Ember blinked several times, desperately attempting to process the quick shift.

"I never changed my name. My first name didn't sound right with his last name." She shyly admitted.

"What was it?"

Ember let out a snort, mindlessly licking her lips. "Teller. Plus, DeLoughrey is a pretty badass last name."

The duo fell silent for several agonizing moments, the mindless chatter from the talk show on the television filling the void as Ember rose from her spot on the couch.

"I'm gonna go check on him."

Horton nodded in the place of a verbal response, his vibrant eyes glued to the television as Ember strut from the room.

She stumbled down the eerie hallway, avoiding the menacing glares from the vandalised framed stock images as she approached Joker's closed door.

With a shaking breath, her fingers laced around the cool metal of the circular handle, twisting slowly until she heard the faint click of the latch.

The door swung open with ease, revealing a darkened room, illuminated solely by the blue hue of the computer screen as Joker sat hunched over the desk. A pen sat firmly in the grasp of his right hand, etching along the surface of a sheet of clean paper as the very ends of his curls tickled the surface of the desk.

Ember cautiously approached the man, applying the faintest amount of pressure to the ground with each step as her hands outstretched to claim his hunched shoulders.

Mere moments before she came into contact with his frame, a deep, husky voice emerged from his figure, causing the woman to jump slightly in surprise.

"You're _trash_ at sneaking _up_ on people, babe."

Her palms met the surface of his shoulders, fingers immediately tracing circles to knead the knots from his muscles as he molded into her touch. Joker eased backwards in the swivel chair, falling limp against the material as his head lulled back in contentment. A deep sigh traveled through his chest, lips parting ever-so-slightly as his eyes screwed shut in satsifaction. _God_ , her hands were like _magic_...

Ember continued to massage his shoulders, clearly enjoying the little show he put on for her. Light moans toppled from his red painted lips, his adams apple shifting in his throat at every innocent noise as Ember dug into the tense muscles. The woman continued her gentle assault on his broad shoulders, leaning forward gently to become level with his face. She caught him by surprise when her lips briefly met his, nose tickling his bright white jaw as he let out a grunt.

Just as she was about to pull away, his colorant-stained fingers laced into her greasy locks, tugging her face back down to his as their teeth clanked together upon impact. Joker roughly pried her lips open with his, his tongue darting out to claim her mouth as that familiar, comforting taste sent him into an absolute frenzy.

"You _taste_ so good." He moaned into her open mouth, somewhat amused by their peculiar position as his nose brushed against her chin.

Ember tugged away from his clutch, watching closely as a set of soft eyes appeared inside the deep, black holes.

Joker spun around in his seat, pulling himself to a standing position as he approached Ember with two large strides, enveloping the tiny girl in his arms as his lips met hers once more. That wonderful greasepaint taste filled her senses, igniting a fire deep within the woman as she melted into his loving embrace.

Fuck, did she absolutely adore him. She craved the late nights, where his features were free of the theatrical white, red and black paint. She adored the way their bodies molded together, like puzzle pieces, manufactered to perfectly fit together every single time. She needed his touch, she fucking craved it. His hands fit perfectly in the grooves of her hips, fingers curling into her skin as he left behind beautiful bruises in their wake. There was something quite extroardinary about bruises and hickeys... It was as if her body was a canvas, patiently awaiting to be decorated by his prying fingers and desperate lips. He created art upon her skin, a mixture of a physical representation of love and ownership. She was, and would always be, utterly and unreservedly his.

Ember eventually crashed back down to Earth, her back laid flat against the impossibly soft comforter of Joker's bed as his lips trailed wet, sloppy kisses along her torso. She watched as he lifted her shirt slowly with his fingers, leaving behind patches of goosebumps with every simple movement as she writhed beneath his touch.

"Can you ever si- _t still_?" Joker scolded, his voice muffled by her skin as he continued to trail kisses along her stomach. He let out an amused chuckle when he pulled away, admiring his visible handiwork as dark smears of red lined her flesh. Her lips were also painted blood red, giving them a somewhat swollen appearance as he grinned.

"What?" Ember pried.

"I- _uh_ , love seeing the _evidence_ of my lips on your _skin_." He boldly stated, swooping downward to claim her lips before she could even formulate some type of response.

Ember gasped for air when he finally pulled away, claiming the empty spots on her neck as he tugged the thin skin between his teeth. His heavily clothed torso pressed firmly against hers, allowing her enough room to comfortably breathe as his right hand cupped the side of her face. The tips of his longer fingers tangled in the baby hairs that hovered above her ear, while his thumb applied pressure to her cheek, tracing odd shapes against the skin as he gently assaulted her neck with his mouth.

Her hands found their way to his hair, which was in desperate need of a dye job as she clung onto the curls, emitting that oh-so-fucking- _erotic_ groan of his to emerge from his painted lips. His hips naturally bucked forward in reply, a breathless sigh falling from Ember's stained lips, just he intended.

"Please don't kill Bruce."

 _This bitch always knew how to ruin a perfectly good moment..._

Joker let out a frustrated sigh, detaching his swollen lips from her slightly bruising neck as he balanced his weight directly above her.

"Don't _worry_ , toots." He breathed, tongue lapping out to meet hers before hastily pulling away once again. "I have a _plan_."

* * *

 **A/N** : Here we are, thirty chapters in! Man, I love this story so much. I hope you guys do too.

I've officially mapped out the final eleven chapters of "Paper Planes", (yes, only eleven chapters remain). I'm determined to finish off this amazing story strong, and I hope I won't let any of you down! I have BIG plans for Ember and Joker (and my darling Horton as well!)

Please feel free to leave any reviews! Your feedback is ALWAYS appreciated, positive or negative! xo


	31. XXXI

_"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own."_

—Robert A. Heinlein

* * *

"Joker?" Ember called, navigating her way through the familiar floor plan in search of the painted-face man.

Her fingers grazed the doorknob of the front door, lanky digits lacing around the cool metal as she effortlessly twisted. She let out a sigh of relief at the cool Gotham air, which enveloped her with ease as she stumbled from the building, dancing along the deeply cracked concrete. The surrounding trees swayed elegantly in the wind, her coffee-hued eyes scanning the abandoned front yard, littered with fallen leaves and chopped logs.

Her stare finally settled upon the man she so helplessly loved, walking with a slight skip in his step as he approached the building. The gaudy greasepaint was absent, displaying those darling bare features of his as a hearty smile tugged at his scars.

Ember's brows furrowed in confusion at the sudden sight of a set of petite legs resting on Joker's shoulders, tiny fingers buried into the loose strands of his faded curls as his hands cupped onto the tiny thighs.

A female toddler, no more than two years of age, sat perched up on Joker's shoulders, giggling wildly as the theatrical man spun in expeditious circles, his chuckles matching hers in intensity as she gripped tightly onto the hair atop his head.

She was, quite possibly, the most beautiful baby Ember had ever seen. Her hair was fine and blonde, inching past her jaw and curling slightly at the ends. Her eyes—from what Ember could see at this distance—mimicked the color of dark chocolate. The childs lips curled into a grin, dimples appearing on either cheek as Joker ran in zig-zags, bending his knees as he did so to emit intense laughter from the child.

He suddenly approached a rather stunned Ember, chest heaving slightly as his lips met hers with ease.

The kiss was short lived, nothing but a simple peck as heavy pants tumbled from his parted lips. His hands traveled to the childs sides, lifting her from his neck as he placed her gently onto the uneven ground.

"Hey _baby_." Joker purred, his fingers lacing with the little girls as she exchanged excited glances between the two of them.

"Say _hi_ to Mommy, _Rhiannon_." Joker pressed, his gaze locking on the childs as Ember's blood ran cold.

 _Mommy? Rhiannon?_

"Hi, Mommy." The little girl, apparently named Rhiannon, greeted.

"H-Hi." Ember stammered, clearing her throat obnoxiously when the words failed to come out.

"Go again, Daddy! Go again!" Little Rhiannon chanted, tugging on the mans arm as merely chuckled in response.

" _Later_ , doll."

Joker's stare returned to Ember, raising a perplexed brow at her puzzled expression. His hand darted outward to cup Ember's belly, startling her slightly.

Her eyes followed his gesture, immediately widening when she noticed the apparent bump underneath her shirt.

 _What the fuck is that?_

The womans jaw fell ajar, hands meeting his to cup her swollen belly as her heart threatened to burst straight out of her chest.

"How's the _baby_?"

* * *

Ember woke with a start.

Her hair was flattened along her cheek, glued to the skin by an abundance of sweat as shivers escalated down the length of her spine. Her hands immediately darted outward, claiming the bare skin of her belly to ensure that she, in fact, did not have a bump.

A sigh of immense relief fell from her trembling lips at the sight of a flat stomach. She struggled to regulate her breathing, becoming fully aware of the fact that she had dreamt the entire scenario.

 _Rhiannon wasn't real. The unborn baby wasn't real._

Ember tugged her knees to her chest, elbows resting on them as her face fell into her hands. Although the dream had been quite pleasant, she felt as if she'd just woken up from a nightmare.

An arm curled around her waist, tugging her back to the safety of its host as Joker let out a low, dissastisfied grunt. His fading curls were thrown astray, scarred lips parted to allow the deep breaths to escape with ease.

Those damn sweatpants clung lowly onto his hips, pitifully concealing his happy trail that dipped lowly into the waistline of his pants. A shirt was absent, which was routine for the man, as he complained that it was always "too hot" at night to wear one, regardless of the temperature in the bedroom.

Ember let out a shaky breath, her legs collapsing back onto the mattress as she wormed her way back into the comfort of Joker's chest, her nose burying into the crook of his neck as they lay on their sides.

Joker let out an unconscious groan of contentment, both arms instinctively lacing around the womans tiny torso as he entrapped her in his grasp. The pads of his fingers danced along the skin of her shoulder, etching miscellaneous patterns into the flesh as he lay lax beside her.

Ember immediately calmed at the steady sound of his heart drumming against her ear, gently reminding her that he was alive.

Although it was rather silly, Ember absolutely loved laying on the mans chest. To be able to feel and hear his heart beat against her skin was an indescribable feeling. It was a beautiful sound, a rhythm she'd grown accustomed to. Underneath all that makeup, underneath the scars and the violence and the uncertainty, the steady heartbeat in Joker's chest reminded Ember that he was simply _human_.

The woman pressed a kiss to his collarbone, nuzzling into his chest as the consistent thumping drove her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

"D'you _have_ to go?" Joker whined, his bare face still buried in the deep purple pillows as Ember shrugged into her t-shirt.

"Yes," she pressed. "Michelle and I are going to get facials."

Joker shifted in the bed, his gaze meeting hers as an amused grin curled onto his lips.

"You're- _uh_ , gonna _pay_ for a facial when I can _give_ you one for _free_?"

Ember openly scoffed at his perverted comment.

"You're gross."

"You seemed to _like_ it the _last_ time." He cheekily countered, the back of his head perched up by his arm as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Ember merely rolled her eyes, slipping the button through the hole on her jeans as Joker intently watched her dress, bottom lip tugged between his teeth.

"I'll be back later, okay? Call me if you need something." She simply stated, approaching the bed swiftly to place a peck on Joker's lips.

He, however, did not approve of such an innocent kiss. As the woman attempted to pull away, his hand restricted her from doing so, cupping the back of her skull as he pulled her face back down to meet his.

"No- _t_ so _fast_ , love." He whispered, prying her lips open with his as his tongue effortlessly explored her mouth.

"I gotta go." Ember murmured against his mouth, hips pressed against the side of the mattress as her torso awkwardly laid across his.

Her lips detached from his, prompting the man to groan in vexation at the sudden absence.

"Ugh," Joker groaned. " _C'mon_ , babe. Come _make_ daddy _feel_ good."

"Maybe later." Ember dismissed, still slightly shaken from her extremely vivid dream, (and imaginary Rhiannon's tiny voice calling Joker "daddy"). She placed a quick kiss to his lips once again before scurrying from the room.

* * *

"What's your man up to today?" Michelle coolly wondered, taking a large bite of her medium-well burger. Several toppings shifted upon impact, her pinky finger darting outward to capture the tomato before it toppled from the safety of the bun.

"Probably doing something illegal." Ember shrugged, stuffing a honey mustard coated french fry into her mouth. "I worry about him sometimes, y'know. Worry that I'll turn on the TV and see his corpse on the news or something."

Michelle flashed the woman a scolding glare, swallowing her mouthful of burger before replying.

"Don't say that, Ember. He's a very tough man. You've seen some of the shit he's managed to escape from."

Ember's gaze traveled around the nearly vacant restaurant, her glare settling upon an eldery couple in a corner booth. A smile crept onto her face as she watched the white-haired duo silently sip their soup.

Would that be her and Joker one day?

"Sometimes I do a bit of research on him." Ember added, stuffing another fry into her mouth.

"Oh?" Michelle raised a penciled brow, her elbows resting on the table as her perfectly manicured fingers laced together. "Like what?"

"Just on stuff he's done. Did you know about the whole semi-truck incident with Harvey Dent?"

"Yes. I watched the news religiously when he was causing all of that uproar last summer." Michelle chuckled, clearly remembering sitting on her sofa, admiring Jackson's painted face on the television as she aimlessly wondered when she'd have the pleasure of seeing it again.

"He told me he loves me." Ember blurted, coffee-tinted glare flickering upwards to meet Michelle's.

The old woman stiffened, jaw slipping ajar as she blinked several times in disbelief. In all honesty, she wasn't quite sure if she'd heard Ember correctly.

"Pardon?" The elder woman squeaked, the metal fork slipping through the cracks of her fingers as it noisily collided with the decorative plate.

Ember winced at the bothersome noise, stirring in her seat anxiously as she hesitantly repeated herself.

"Joker told me that he's in love with me."

Michelle's slightly wrinkled hands darted upwards, claiming her gaping mouth as she choked back a round of tears. Ember's revelation was like music to the womans ears.

"What? When?"

"Three weeks ago." Ember explained, instantly losing her appetite when visuals of her dream littered her mind.

"Oh my God," Michelle giggled, palms cupping her face in glee as she admired Ember's weak smile. "I'm so happy for you two. Did you say it back?"

"Yes. But neither of us have said it since." Ember frowned, avoiding Michelle's hardly blinking glare as she rubbed her clammy hands along the fabric of her jeans.

 _Why the fuck was she so anxious?_

"Are you alright, Ember? You seem off today. You should be happy, especially following the news you just shared!" Michelle beamed, her hand darting outward in an attempt to calm Ember.

Ember hesitantly took the elder womans hand, letting out a shaking breath before revealing her feelings.

"I think I might be pregnant."

"Ember," Michelle sternly began, brows knit together in uncertainty as she shifted in the booth. "You know that's not possible."

"Just let me explain." Ember pressed, thrusting her hands outward to further express her speech as she glanced around the restaurant, desperately hoping that nobody was listening.

"I had a dream last night that I was pregnant, but with our second child. I woke up this morning and realized that my period is three days late, and I'm never late." Ember lowly hissed, sucking diligently on her bottom lip.

"I did several tests on him, Ember. He's completely infertile." Michelle murmured, the information still stinging as it left her lips.

"But what if he's not?" The younger woman countered.

Michelle let out a staggered breath, her wrinkled fingers capturing Ember's trembling ones as she reassuringly squeezed.

"I guess there's only one way to find out."

* * *

A messy mop of green curls filed into the grungy home, a mess of blonde following closely on his heel as the he discarded the assault rifle onto the granite counter.

"Why don't- _cha_ get us somethin' to- _uh, eat_ , Horty?" Joker lightly suggested, glancing over his shoulder to meet the fidgeting mans gaze.

"Yes, sir." Horton monotonely muttered. He knew quite well that when Joker sent him out to grab food, it was for good reason. Plus, he wasn't entirely in the mood to hear him and Ember at the moment.

The henchman exited the house without another word, isolating the painted-face man as he shuffled about in the kitchen. Ember's Mustang sat parked out front, directly under an oak tree, the top down, per usual.

A chuckle resonated through his chest as he skipped down the hallway, a bit too ecstatic to see his girl as he thrust the vibrant purple door open.

"Honey, I'm _hooome_!" He cheered, frowning immediately at the sight of the vacant bedroom. The bed lay unmade, the sheets still mangled in the shape he'd left them in after Ember left this morning to get facials with Michelle.

"Fuckin' _facials_ ," he muttered, letting out an amused chuckle as he paced the room, ending up in the bathroom as his index finger brushed against the switch, illuminating the tiny space. "I'll give yah a _real_ good facial."

His gaze met his reflection in the spotted mirror, chest heaving in detestation. He leaned forward slightly, hips colliding with the counter as his colorant-tinted fingers caressed the painted skin of his jaw. The pad of his thumb grazed against the deep crevice of his left scar, slipping between the folds as his covered brows knit together in repulsion.

How did Ember find him even remotely attractive? He was fucking _hideous_.

Joker clenched his fists together, desperately warding off the violent urges as he resisted shattering the glass mirror.

Another strand of incoherent statements tumbled from his lips, his jaw falling slack when his stare settled upon a peculiar object discarded in the inky plastic trash can.

Joker sucked in an uneasy breath, falling to his knees to rummage through the can. His heavily colored fingers circled around the strange object, his heartbeat painfully accelerating in his chest as he lifted it from the container.

The hunched-shouldered man fell to the floor, bottom colliding with the tile as his back rest up against the cabinet doors of the vanity. It was as if he'd lost all the feeling in his legs entirely, his breaths emerging in short staggers as he began to violently shake.

The slender white and pink hued stick sat between his fingers, a solid, single blue line displayed on the circular screen as he swallowed thickly.

He wasn't quite sure how long he'd been sitting there, staring dumbfounded at the stupid plastic stick in his grasp. In fact, he hadn't even noticed Ember's arrival.

She rounded the wall, freezing in the doorway as a hand gripped the frame on either side. Her chest began to ache at the sight before her, Joker's hunched figure frozen on the ground, eyes widened as the pregnancy test sat in his hand.

"It's negative." She breathed, bottom lip beginning to quiver as she clearly recalled viewing the result several hours earlier. She'd broken down, sobbing profusely into her hands as Michelle cradled her in her arms. She knew it was impossible, but a tiny part of her hoped and prayed that maybe, just _maybe_ , a little miracle had occurred.

Joker's lips sealed, words failing him as he continuously stared at the stick in his hands. That little sliver of hope seemed to vanish entirely. His worst fears had come to life; he would never be able to give Ember a baby. He would never be a Dad. He would never be normal.

He _was_ a freak.

Ember filed into the bathroom, slowly sinking to her knees beside the frozen man, who hadn't even acknowledged her presence.

"Joker." Ember cooed, her palm instantly cupping his jaw as she tugged his face sideways, wordlessly beginning him to look at her.

His sad eyes met hers, her heart plummeting at the sight as his pink tongue darted outward, wetting his lips quickly before returning to the depths of his mouth.

"It's okay," she whispered, caressing his face with her palm as she traced circles against his skin with her thumb. "We don't need one."

"I _want_ one." He sheepishly admitted, tossing the pregnancy test back into the trash as he let out a deep sigh. "I'd _make_ a shi- _t_ dad anyways."

Ember visibly frowned, shaking her head from side to side as her thumb grazed his blood-red bottom lip.

"You'd make an amazing father."

Joker let out a sarcastic laugh, shoving the woman off of him as he swiftly rose to his feet.

"Oh, _totally_ ," he snipped, head hung low as he paced the floor. "Any ki- _d_ would be _so_ lucky to have a psycho- _pathic murderer_ as their father."

"I consider myself lucky to have a psychopathic murderer as my boyfriend, so why would they think any differently?" Ember effortlessly countered, rising to her feet to meet the distressed man, wrapping her arms firmly around his torso.

His stiff figure instantly calmed under her soothing touch, lazy gaze flickering in her direction as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, smearing a bit of red paint along her skin.

"I love you." Ember spoke, the words slipping elegantly off her tongue as she embraced the taller man in her skinny arms. "I always did, and I always will."

"Well, you _shouldn't_."

* * *

"Hand me tha- _t rag_ , will yah, Hort?" Joker grunted, thoroughly dismantling the rifle.

Horton hesitantly tossed a stained white rag in Joker's lap, polishing the handgun before returning it to its case.

The two men sat cross-legged on the living room carpet, surrounded by a mess of firearms as Horton retrieved a nearby revolver, beginning to clean it as well.

He desperately avoided glancing at the Joker, being that he looked so unbelievably fuckable at the moment. The fucker's fading green locks were pulled from his face, tucked behind his ears as an occasional strand fell into his eyes. His torso was clad with a simple navy t-shirt, that silver chain he wore religiously draped around his neck, resting neatly on top of the shirt. The paper plane pendant gleamed underneath the artificial lighting of the room, shifting slightly with every small movement as Joker cleaned the gun with ease. His face was masked by the usual white, red and black paint, his tongue poking outward in concentration as he profusely licked his scars, the taste of paint filling his taste buds as he felt Horton's glare on him.

"Yes, _Horton_?" Joker drawled, darkened gaze meeting the blonde boys as he instantly stiffened.

"W-What?" Horton stuttered, blinking several times as he looked anywhere, everywhere except Joker's enchanting eyes...

"You're _staring_."

"I-I'm sorry—"

"D'you wan- _t_ to _kiss_ me, Horton?"

The blonde boys jaw fell ajar, the air escaping his lungs as he blinked several times, unsure if he heard Joker correctly.

He did not reply.

Joker merely chuckled, stained scars pulling upwards in amusement as he diverted his gaze, swiftly cleaning the gun as Horton sat stunned beside him.

 _Was that an invitation to kiss him?_

How fucking lovely—fucking _exhilarating_ would it be to just be able to propell himself across the mess of guns, to smash his lips to Joker's and taste that greasepaint on his tongue. God, it made Horton's stomach flutter to even imagine it, to picture their tongues frolicking about, exchanging breathless sighs as their limbs molded together in perfect unison—

" _Horton_." Joker scolded.

 _Could he read his mind?_

"Sorry, sir." The shy boy murmured, returning to his chore as Joker continuously glared at him, curious as to what could possibly be running through that mind of his.

Joker merely grunted, tossing the rag into the center of the circle as he reassembled the rifle, placing it gently before him on the carpet as he let out a long sigh.

"Fuck," Joker groaned, leaning back slightly as he balanced his weight on the palms of his hands, which were planted firmly against the disheveled carpeting.

"Sir?" Horton squeaked.

"I could- _uh_ , really go for a _blowjob_ righ- _t_ now." Joker plainly put, gaze settling upon the squirming henchman as his tongue quickly prodded outward, meeting the corner of his mouth before disappearing once again from sight.

Horton struggled to catch his breath, the blood traveling swiftly from his brain to his extremities.

Joker's lips parted, bottom lip pulling between his teeth momentarily before snapping back into place, dark eyes looking the blonde boy up and down as he stirred in his spot. He was embarrassed to admit that he couldn't tell if the boss was fucking with him, or was being completely genuine...

The sound of a door slamming closed caused Horton to violently flinch, awkwardly clearing his throat as a rather giddy Ember entered the room, walking with a slight skip in her step. Her severely overgrown blonde hair was held up in a ponytail, swinging side-to-side as she quickly approached the Joker. Horton frowned as she bent her knees, wrapping her arms firmly around the mans neck as she pressed sloppy, sporatic kisses to his painted cheek.

"Hiya, _doll_." Joker lowly spoke, craning his neck to press an open-mouthed kiss to her mouth.

"What'cha doing?" Ember pried, resting her chin atop Joker's head as her arms still lay laced around his shoulders.

"Spring _cleaning_."

A sharp knock came at the front door, puzzling both Horton and Ember as Joker pulled himself from her desperate embrace, shuffling to his feet as he ran a hand through his messy curls.

"By the way," he began. "That's- _uh_ , Grim. He's going to live here part- _time_ to help ou- _t_."

He exited the room without another word, Ember and Horton exchanging uncomfortable glances as Joker let this "Grim" character inside the home.

 _I don't like him_. Ember mouthed in Horton's direction.

 _Me neither._ He simply agreed, straightening his posture when the tall man entered the room, Joker close on his heel.

"So- _uh, Em,_ " Joker huskily began, approaching her quickly as he buried his face in her hair, talking lowly so that only she could hear him. "How 'bout I _give_ you tha- _t_ facial?"

* * *

 **A/N** : I literally die imagining Joker with a little girl on his shoulders because all I can see is Heath with Matilda on his shoulders and I begin to sob ufkgnsmgk.

Very personal and emotional chapter here, my friends. It really dug deeper into Joker's emotional side (yes, the Joker has an emotional side, who knew?). I think it's important to show that even though Joker wants kids, he knows that it's for the best that he cannot have them.

I hope you guys enjoyed! Much love!

xo, allie


	32. XXXII

_"The man reeks of mental illness. I can taste his pathology... Goes well with my palette."_

—Juditta Salem

* * *

"Shit." Ember breathlessly murmured, her skull colliding with the soft roof of the Mustang as her hand impulsively darted upwards to massage the tender skin. Joker let out a soft chuckle, tightening his hold around the tiny woman as he lifted her hips slightly upwards, hesitating slightly before easing her back down to meet his lap.

The abrupt action emit a chorus of sighs to fill the miniscule compartment, Joker's head rolling back as it lay lax against the headrest. His adams apple bobbed beneath the flesh of his throat with every simple sigh, eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy as Ember rolled her hips effortlessly against his.

The scenario proved quite difficult, given the lack of space and minimal leverage. A bare-faced Joker and a giddy Ember had taken a stroll down the dirt road, when the womans hand inched a bit too far up the mans thigh. Mere moments later, after parking the vehicle underneath a gigantic oak tree, (the hood actually up this time, surprisingly), Joker had tugged the woman into the back seat with him. Lucky for him, she'd worn a bright yellow sundress, barely grazing the tops of her knobby knees. She'd unbuttoned his jeans, inching them just below his hips to allow him freedom, but only just. Ember remained fully clothed on top of him, panties shifted to the side as her fingers rotated from the neck of his gray sweater to his curls.

Her mouth met his again, tongue tracing his bottom lip as Joker's hands attempted to brush the wild strands of hair from Ember's face. He failed miserably as the cramped space prevented her from being able to spread out a bit, her head nearly colliding with the roof with every movement.

She strayed from his swollen mouth, peppering hot kisses along the skin of his cheeks, jaw, and eventually dipping down onto his neck. Her lips were like wildfire, leaving behind blazing burns against his flesh as he practically squirmed beneath her.

The man drifted off into a euphoric state, feeling more at ease than he has in ages. Perhaps it was this gentle, raw, undeniably passionate round of lovemaking that calmed his nerves and ignited his senses. There was absolutely no rush in this instance, no race to the finish, not an end in sight. They simply enjoyed one anothers presence, enveloping themselves in all things each other as they sat conjoined in the cramped back seat of an old Mustang.

A soft tune played lowly in the background, something along the lines of a classic Foreigner song as Ember let out a contentful sigh, reconnecting her lips to his.

Bolts of electricity shot up each of their spines everytime she'd lowered herself back on to him. Her fingers tingled in anticipation as her legs trembled with extreme pleasure, simply enjoying the feeling of him between her legs.

Joker let his hands wander, traveling from the softness of her cheeks and dipping down onto her bare shoulders. His fingers laced with the thin straps of her dress as she swiveled her hips _juuust_ right, emitting a moan to tumble from his parted lips. Lazy eyes admired the beautiful woman as his hands found refuge on her hips, fitting oh-so- _perfectly_ against her skin.

Joker was one-hundred-percent certain that he could be wrapped up in this blissful nirvana for the rest of his days. As long as he had his Ember, all would be well.

Forty-six minutes later, the glowing couple returned to the disheveled home, approaching the building arm-in-arm as they exchanged several giggles.

A lit cigarette clung loosely to Joker's bottom lip, his right arm slung around Ember's bony shoulders. His boots sat unlaced, the ankles of his jeans tucked sloppily into the shoes as the pads of his fingers traced circles against Ember's skin.

The temporary tranquil state that both individuals currently reside in abruptly passed at the sighting of an unfamiliar man hovering the front porch. He was drastically thin, strutting a pair of khakis and a yellow collared shirt. A rather expensive camera sat in his clutch, held up to his face as he took photographs of the surrounding area.

Ember clearly felt Joker stiffen beside her, his fingers ripping the cigarette from his lips as he flicked it into the grass.

"Stay _here._ " He lowly ordered, strutting towards the unknown man as he finally noticed their presence.

"Oh, hello!" The man greeted, thin lips tugged into a genuine grin. "I know this may seem a bit extreme, but I got an anonymous tip that the infamous Joker might reside here. Do you know anything of that?"

Ember practically face-palmed at the strangers comment, her chest heaving as Joker slowly approached the man. Although she could not see his face, she could practically picture the blood thirsty glimmer in his eyes.

The mans gaze settled upon Joker's scars, jaw falling agape at the sight when realization suddenly dawned upon him: This man was the fucking Joker.

"You have- _ah_ , no _business_ here, mother- _fucker_." Joker growled.

"Mr. J-Joker, s-sir, I'm sorry to trespass—"

"You fucked _up_ , kiddo." Joker seethed, inching closer towards the younger man as he toyed with the hem of his gray sweater.

Before the stranger could react, Joker had him in a headlock, applying the perfect amount of pressure to his neck to knock him unconcious as Ember let out a startled squeak.

The collared-shirt man collapsed onto the dirt, his neck kinked at a drastically uncomfortable angle as Ember scurried towards the Joker.

"I-Is he dead?" She stammered, palms cupping her gaping mouth as Joker let out a snort.

"No- _t_ _quite_ , buttercup." He mused. "Here- _ah,_ help _me_ , will yah?"

Ember swiftly nodded, bending her knees to mimic Joker's actions as she laced her hands around the strangers legs. Joker cupped his armpits, effortlessly lifting him from the ground as Ember followed suit. Joker retrieved the expensive camera, slinging the strap over his shoulder before nodding curtly.

"I'll go _backwards_." The theatrical man monotonely stated, trading positions with the woman as he opened the front door with his elbow. The task proved rather difficult, but once he had successfully unlatched the door, the heel of his boot came into contact with the wood, swinging it open broadly to allow them entrance.

Horton and Grim stood silently in the kitchen, both busy with miscellaneous tasks as Joker and Ember noisily entered the premises.

Horton's brows raised at the scene. Grim's expression, however, remained unchanged.

"Whose that?" Horton called through a mouthful of food, slowly rising from the bar stool as he crept towards the couple.

"Some fucker who was- _uh_ , tryin' to take _pictures_ of the place. Said some guy _tipped_ him off about the Joker livin' _here_." Joker explained, his feet shuffling backwards as he glanced over his shoulder, careful not to run into anything.

Horton's ever-changing eyes widened, more blue than green in color today as he followed closely behind Ember. Her palms began to sweat, posing difficulty for her to maintain a firm grip on the unconcious mans skin.

"What'cha gonna do, boss?" Horton stupidly inquired.

Joker merely grinned—a devilish one at that—his scars tugging up so tall that they nearly met his eyes. They'd arrived at the only door on the left side of the dingy hallway leading to Joker's bedroom. Ember's pulse quickened, the memories of laying behind that door, waiting to die seemed much too vivid...

The mans elbow came into contact with the circular handle, twisting it with a bit of a struggle before it finally flew open.

Ember's stomach churned at the sight of the quite large room, the floor stripped down to the concrete flooring that lay underneath, splattered with dry blood. She began to feel woosy, her head spinning as the mans legs tumbled from her grasp.

Joker let out a disgruntled sound, brows knitting together in confusion as he tossed the mans body into the center of the room like a fucking rag doll.

Horton and Ember stood in the doorway, the womans face severely paling as she began to feel extremely anxious about being in this room again. In this room, the scarred-face man standing before her's demeanor shifted. In this room, she didn't have any desire of kissing him, of holding him or touching him or loving him. No–In this room, she feared him. She felt the tension and the anger and the _hatred_.

"Shu- _t_ the _door_ , Hort." Joker ordered, dipping his hand into the front pocket of his jeans to retrieve that vibrant purple switchblade of his.

Horton obeyed his orders, closing the door tightly behind him as he stood directly beside a quivering Ember. He could feel the anxiety radiating off of the woman, and he hoped that Joker would notice and let her leave.

Unfortunately, the Joker was oblivious to this. In fact, he actually enjoyed seeing Ember squirm, even if it wasn't in the sensual way he was used to.

The man on the floor stirred back into consciousness, his eyelids blinking several times to adjust to the bright lighting. Joker hovered tauntingly over the man, blade glimmering beneath the artificial lighting as sinister giggles tumbled from his lips.

"Wakey _wakeyyy_." The man drawled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as they stood planted on either side of the strangers legs. His free hand tugged at the camera attached to his shoulder, bringing it to his face as the haunting click of a photo being taken sent shivers down Ember's spine.

Ember cowered against the door, heart hammering in her chest as she suddenly felt very ill. She wasn't quite sure what Joker had in mind with this man, but she didn't exactly want to find out...

The man let out a petrified shout, pulling his knees to his chest in an attempt to shuffle backwards and away from the man. Even though he looked drastically less terrifying without the haunting greasepaint, the man knew quite well of Joker's capabilities.

"P-Please d-don't hurt me—" khaki-boy cried, only to be silenced by Joker's high-pitched cackle. The sound alone sent violent shivers down Ember's spine, her blood beginning to curdle at the sound.

She blinked heavily, the clear image of Joker towering over her not too long ago overcoming her sight. Ember could clearly see him standing dreadfully close, his leather gloved fingers gripping painfully onto her jaw as he shouted at her, demanding that she _look at him..._

Her hips began to ache at the memory of him straddling her, having zero regards for her well-being as he ground his hips against hers, that damn knife pressing against her flesh.

If her paper plane pendant wouldn't have fallen out of her shirt at the precise time, would she still be alive?

Ember reentered the scene at hand, eyes immediately widening at the sight of Joker straddling the mans hips, a nearly identical scene to the one she'd just visualized. The blade was deeply buried in his left cheek, Joker's nose grazing his as he lowly demanded answers from the man.

The woman flinched when an arm unexpectedly laced around her waist, tugging her closely to its host as she quivered in her sandals.

She molded into Horton's soothing embrace, her anxiety somewhat settling at the innocent gesture as she balled a handful of his thick cotton t-shirt between her fingers.

" _Answer me!"_ Joker boomed, his voice bouncing off the concrete walls with ease as Ember instinctively flinched.

"I-I'm sorry, sir! I don't know who told me! It was an anonymous tip!"

Evidently, Joker was not satisfied with the individuals answer.

Ember's eyes flickered shut at the nauseating noise that filled the void. Joker must've impaled the man somehow— _somewhere_ —but she wasn't about to find out where. A whimper fell from her chapped lips as each index finger met her ears, pressing them closed to lessen the noise as she began to violently tremble.

Horton tugged on her arm, applying pressure on her front to urge her backwards as she blinked several times, her eyes slowly adjusting to the lighting as the man continued to scream. Joker's menacing laughs ricocheted off the walls, horrifying the woman as she stumbled from the room.

The blonde boy slammed the door closed behind them, arms naturally darting outwards in an attempt to catch the woman as her knees suddenly buckled, sending her to the floor.

The palms of her hands met the flawed wooden floor, a cry falling from her lips as she swallowed a mouthful of bile. It took quite a bit of self control to not vomit all over herself after what she'd seen.

It was wild, really, how quickly the Joker's entire demeanor shifted. Just an hour prior, she was riding him in the backseat of the Mustang, swallowing his breathless sighs as she was exposed to his most vulnerable side. Now, over sixty minutes later, he was an entirely different person. The color in his eyes had completely altered, nearly black in appearance, versus the typical soft brown color she so loved.

"Ember!" Horton cried, his hands meeting her shoulders in a weak attempt to soothe her. "C'mon. Let's go outside."

Ember shakily rose to her feet, grimacing at the horrifying sound of Joker's laugh as it bled through the thick drywall.

She nearly collapsed a second time at the sound, pure fear resonating through her bones as Horton curled his arm underneath her legs, lifting her into his arms as he carried her quickly from the house.

Grim still stood in the kitchen, brows raising at the sight of Horton holding Ember as they fled from the building, Joker's menacing cackles fading into the background.

Horton set Ember down on a nearby tree stump, several yards away from the front door as she breathed in the fresh Gotham air.

The outside air instantly calmed her, enveloping her completely as she struggled to clear her head of the haunting thoughts of the Joker. There was something absolutely mesmerizing about the fresh air, as well as the location of the hideout in general. She loved the sound of the trees swaying in the wind, along with the comforting scent of the area itself.

Horton rummaged through his jean pocket, fishing out a crinkled teal and white tinted pack of cigarettes, as well as a vibrant purple lighter.

"Can I have one?" Ember croaked, rubbing her clammy hands together vigorously as the blonde boy simply nodded, placing a cigarette into her trembling hands.

"You gonna be okay, Em?" The boy cooed, placing the cigarette between his lips as he swiftly lit it.

The woman merely nodded, mimicking his actions as she, too, placed the cigarette between her dry lips, cupping her palm around the end as she struggled to light it with the wind.

The duo sat in silence for several minutes, inhaling the smoke deeply into their lungs as sporadic gusts of wind sent Ember's locks astray.

"How do you still love him after seeing him like that?" She whispered.

Horton stood several feet in front of her, the toe of his boot digging into the dirt as his gaze sat glued upon his feet.

"Because I didn't fall in love with Jackson like you did. I fell in love with the Joker, just as he is." He monotonely replied.

Ember sighed, taking a rather long drag off her cigarette before ripping it from her lips.

"I'm in love with both."

Horton's stare instantaneously met hers at her proclamation.

"You love him?"

Ember avoided his glare, nodding plainly as she twirled the lit cigarette between her slender fingers.

"He told me he loves me, too."

Horton's stomach did sumersaults at her statement, the cigarette toppling to the dirt as he crushed it beneath the sole of his boot.

The news wasn't entirely a shock to the man. He knew how the Joker felt about her, he could tell simply by his actions. Around Ember, the Joker wasn't himself. He was calm, collective, romantic, and even somewhat sane.

"Congratulations." He grumbled, pacing in circles as his palms sat planted on his hips.

"I'm sorry, Horton." Ember whispered.

He did not reply.

Ember finished off her cigarette, discarding it into the dirt as she awkwardly sat upon the tree stump. She'd finally calmed down quite a bit, her pulse returning back to normal as the violent trembles ceased.

That was, until the Joker decided to make an appearance.

Both Horton and Ember's necks snapped upwards at the deafening sound of the front door slamming closed. Ember's throat went dry at the sight of him, still dressed in that darling set of jeans that clung oh-so-nicely to his legs, the ankles sloppily tucked into the top of his unlaced boots. The sleeves of his fading gray sweater were rolled up past his elbows, the heavy material bunching slightly. Her eyes trailed down the length of his arm, stomach fluttering at the sight of the tattoo that circled his wrist. However, her heart plummeted when her gaze suddenly met his hands, which were tinted pink.

She was pleasantly surprised to see an absence of blood on his clothing, the evidence of his apparent kill invisible to her as he skipped in their direction. His stained hands, however, proved that he did, in fact, kill someone.

"Why'd yah- _uh_ , run _out_ on me, doll?" He giggled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as she openly shuddered.

"Needed a smoke." She blandly replied, eyelids squinting as she glared up at him.

The irises of his eyes had returned to that familiar brown color, gleefully glaring down at her as his scars tugged up the length of his face.

"I've- _uh_ , got a bi- _t_ of a surprise for yah." He winked, fingers lacing around the width of her wrist as he effortlessly tugged her from the tree stump.

"O-Okay?" Ember stuttered, glancing in Horton's direction as Joker pried her from her seat. Horton, however, completely avoided the pair of them, his back turned as he stared into the distance.

Joker tugged her along the deeply cracked sidewalk, thrusting the front door open so violently that it routinely collided with the already damaged drywall behind it.

Ember flinched at the noise, still a bit jumpy from earlier as she noticed Grim's absence from the kitchen.

"Don't _worry_ ," Joker began, as if he could read her thoughts. "Grim cleaned up all the _little pieces_."

The woman grimaced at his choice of vocabulary, desperately attempting to push away the grueling thoughts of the collared-shirt man chopped up into itty-bitty pieces...

Joker halted in front of the door, spinning on his heel to face the cowering woman as a devilish grin tugged at his lips.

" _Ready_?" He sang, bottom lip outstretched by the tip of his tongue as he scanned Ember's expression. She was petrified of him, and it was fucking _riveting_.

Ember merely shrugged, words momentarily failing her as Joker's arm disappeared behind his back, fingers lacing around the circular handle as he sharply twisted.

Joker pressed his back cleanly against the door, outstretching an arm to offer her entrance as she shuffled into the room.

Her eyes flickered over the area, not entirely certain what she was supposed to be seeing, until it suddenly came into view.

Ember's heart lept into her throat, the feeling in her legs vanishing entirely as her jaw fell ajar.

On the very right concrete wall, sat a not-so-simple statement, which covered a large area of the surface.

An inhumane sound fell from her parted lips, palms instantly clamming up once more as her eyes widened.

 _"I love you"_ was etched cleanly into the concrete, flourescent red in color as several of the letters bled down the cracks of the wall.

It was undeniably written in blood.

The palms of Joker's hands met her shoulders, blood-stained fingers applying pressure to the skin as he gently kneaded her tense muscles.

His nose tickled the tip of her ear, warm breath fanning along her skin as goosebumps immediately littered her skin in response.

"I _love_ you."

* * *

 **A/N** : Thoughts on this chapter? Haha.

So sorry for the big delay between updates! This story is finished, I just need to find them time to transfer the chapters and fix all the dialogue (because allllll of my italics disappear, its a total pain!)

Please feel free to leave behind some reviews. Don't be shy!


	33. XXXIII

_"I think a lot of psychopaths are just geniuses who drove so fast that they lost control."_

—Criss Jami

* * *

 _Let's turn back the clocks... again..._

Ember lounged against the leather sofa, nose buried in a carton of chocolate chip ice cream as she dug the spoon deeply into the container. Reruns of _Friends_ played mindlessly in the background, her pink polka-dot drawstring pajama pants clinging loosely to her hips.

Her mobile lit up beside her hip, a curious brow raising as her adoptive mothers name flashed across the screen. The woman sighed in annoyance, not entirely wanting to spend the next forty minutes on the phone with her mother as she hastily answered, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Hello?" She mumbled through a mouthful of ice cream.

"Is Noah working today?" Georgia DeLoughrey demanded, her voice full of concern as Ember's brows knit together in confusion.

"Uh, yeah? Why?"

"Turn on the news. Now." Georgia clipped, failing to provide any further information as the line went dead.

The metal spoon toppled from Ember's grasp, slipping into the paper carton as she quickly placed it on the wooden coffee table where her bare feet lay. With slightly trembling fingers, the woman retrieved the remote, switching off her favorite show to reveal the Gotham News.

Her heart began to race, palms growing clammy as the television screen settled on the Gotham City News. Displayed on the screen was an image of the Gotham General Hospital, surrounded by chaos as hundreds of individuals fled the scene.

Noah.

An extremely ill feeling suddenly settled in Ember's belly, her fingers fumbling with her mobile as she rapidly dialed her husbands number. Her gaze lay glued upon the television screen, eyes widened and barely blinking as they steadily videotaped the outside of the Emergency section of the building.

The phone rang six times, leading directly to voicemail as Ember's blood ran cold in her veins.

"No, no, no, no..." She frantically murmured, redialing Noah's number promptly as it began to ring again.

Her slightly faltering gaze returned to the screen, jaw falling agape as the telephone rang mindlessly in her ear.

A man had appeared in the frame, dressed in a white hospital gown that just barely grazed the tip of his knees. A white, painted face, accompanied by black ringed-eyes and a bloody grin stumbled in the direction of the camera, accompanied by an abundance of explosions erupting inside the building.

The mobile phone slipped cleanly between Ember's shaking fingers, toppling to the carpet as the feeling in her legs vanished entirely.

She knew exactly who he was. The fucker had been causing quite some uproar in Gotham recently, and seemed to have a bit of a fetish for the notorious Batman.

The Joker.

The Joker continued to nonchalantly exit the premises, a chorus of screams and shouts erupting in the background as the camera shifted towards the ground.

"No! Fuck!" Ember cried, stumbling forward as her toes collided with the coffee table, emitting a yelp of pain from the woman as thick tears streamed down her face.

The camera still sat diverted away from the hospital, the incontrovertible booms of the thunderous explosions echoing in Ember's ears as she collapsed onto the ground.

That fucking monster. She'd heard plenty about the delirious Joker, who took pleasure in causing mischief. However, this was fucking personal. Her Noah worked at that hospital... Her Noah hadn't answered his phone yet...

 _Please be alive please be alive please be alive._

Ember lay defeated on the carpet, violent sobs wracking through her body as she clutched her knees to her chest.

The Gotham City News played inaudibly in the background as the woman lay in fetal position on the floor. She continuously muttered several prayers under her breath, vigorous trembles overcoming her as she prayed for some kind of miracle.

"Please God, please let my Noah be okay..." She silently sobbed, a palm clamping over her mouth to stifle her sobs. "Please God— _Please_..."

Her arm snaked onto the sofa once again, weakened knees applying the tiniest bit of pressure against the carpet to give herself a bit of leverage.

With trembling hands, Ember dialed Noah's number once again.

Voicemail.

"FUCK!"

Her fingers laced tightly around the plastic, squeezing slightly as a strand of obscenities escaped her lips. The woman collapsed onto the carpet once more, cradling her legs to her chest as she hoped and prayed that maybe, just maybe, her Noah would be okay.

She needed to see him. She needed to hold him and kiss him and tell him that she loved him, just one last time...

Sixty-three minutes later, the phone finally rang.

Ember jumped upward from her miniscule ball on the floor, heart thumping erratically in her chest as she answered the phone.

"Hello?" She croaked, the familiar clink of her earrings colliding with the screen echoing in her ear.

"Mrs. Teller?" An unfamiliar voice inquired.

Ember stilled at the sound.

"T-This is her."

"Mrs. Teller, this is Amelia Young from the GCPD. I'm afraid to tell you that your husband Noah has perished in the Gotham General explosion."

Silence.

Not a word left Ember's lips following Amelia's revelation.

Noah— _Her_ Noah— _dead_.

Before Ember could process the information, her head was lingering over an open toilet bowl.

* * *

They'd requested that she identify the body.

How absolutely fucked was it to even ask something like that? To have the dead mans wife, the woman who loved and adored him with every fiber of her being, be required to see him in that state?

The visual burned a haunting image into Ember's brain. She'd never forget the way his skin practically peeled cleanly off, revealing the muscles underneath as the remaining skin lay charred beyond comprehension.

His eyes were fucking open. Blank and milky in complexion, staring mindlessly into the void as the original green hue had been stripped entirely from the eyeball.

Perhaps the most disturbing image of all, however, was not the burnt flesh or the discolored eyes. It wasn't the still chest or unbeating heart. No—The absolute most fucked up thing of all was the fact that his sleek black wedding band had emerged unscathed. Not a nick, not a scratch. The ring remained in its usual place, sat snugly around Noah's fourth finger, a finger that had been rid of every inch of skin, leaving behind nothing but bone and muscle. The band literally clung onto nothing but muscle.

She'd requested that he be cremated. Ironically enough, Noah had always been fearful of fire.

 _What a fucking ironic demise..._

It seemed as if the world had come to a painful pause. Everything around her continued to move. People still woke, ate breakfast and sipped their coffee. They took the bus to work and Gotham continued to live onward. Everything surrounding Ember continued to move, regardless of the fact that her life had suddenly hit a stand-still.

* * *

Ember lay defeated on the DeLoughrey's sofa, a decorative pillow clutched to her chest as the loose strands tickled her chin.

Georgia sat at her feet, fingers laced around her adoptive daughters ankle as she sucked diligently on her bottom lip.

"I'm sorry they made you see that." The elder woman whispered.

Ember stared blankly at the wall opposite the couch, eyes empty with despair as she desperately attempted to push the thoughts of her dead husband from her mind.

"I fucking hate him." Ember dryly stated, her voice cracking with each word as she struggled to contain her tears.

Georgia's expression softened, the menacing clowns face bombarding her mind.

"He is a very bad man, Ember. He has what's coming for him."

Ember shot up from her position, startling Georgia slightly as she observed the wild look in her disheveled daughters eye.

"He's fucking trash." Ember slurred.

"Ember—"

"No, Mom." The woman scolded, shrugging Georgia's hand off of her shoulder. "I want him dead."

* * *

 **A/N:** This is quite possibly my shortest chapter, but I thought it would be necessary to see what exactly happened the day Noah died. Also, I wanted to give you guys a bit of insight to why Ember hated Joker so much.

I promise next chapter will be longer and more eventful. x


	34. XXXIV

_"If you ever looked at me once with what I know is in you, I would be your slave."_

—Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

* * *

"Stop fucking giggling, you'll get us caught!" Horton lowly hissed.

"S-Sorry." Ember stammered through another fit of giggles, her shoulder brushing against his as they peeked around the open entryway to the kitchen.

Joker sat hunched over the island counter, a mess of faded curls dangling in his vision as he continuously muttered inaudibly.

"Any minute, now." Horton murmured, shifting his weight from each foot as Joker began to stir on the stool. The ball-point pen in his grasp toppled onto the granite with a miniscule _click_.

Ember intently watched as the man rose from his spot, running a heavy colorant-stained hand through his locks as he rounded the counter, heading straight towards the sink on the opposite side.

The woman impulsively giggled once again, prompting the blonde man to grow rather agitated as he clamped a hand over her mouth, concealing her laugh as he patiently waited.

Joker's side profile faced the duo as he came to a halt in front of the sink. His features were routinely concealed by a mess of vibrant greasepaint, pink tongue darting outward to claim the lacerations that littered his face as his palm outstretched.

"C'mon, _c'mon_..." Horton muttered, transfixed on the scene before him as he refrained from blinking, fearful that he'd miss it if he did.

Joker's slender fingers slinked around the faucet, effortlessly twisting. What he didn't see, however, was that Horton and Ember had tightly tied a hair tie around the sprayer, which would undoubtedly soak the man the moment the water emerged.

The moment the water erupted, an abundance of liquid spewed from the sprayer, spraying directly in Joker's painted face as his features contorted into a perplexed expression.

"Wha- _t_ the _fuck_?" The man yelped. His palms darted outward, pitifully attempting to block the steady stream from his face as he'd momentarily forgotten how to make it stop. A strand of profanities spewed from Joker's parted lips, drenched curls glued to the seeping paint on his cheeks as he tore his left hand from blocking the sprayer, taking another hit to the face as he killed the steady stream.

Horton and Ember burst into lusty fits of laughter immediately following. The woman's knees buckled, her hand clamping down on her side to soothe the twinge as she laughed impeccably hard. Horton's hands met his knees, falling into a crouching position as he struggled to catch his breath.

Joker gradually spun on his heel, darkened eyes meeting theirs as the paint dribbled from his cheeks and onto his black dress shirt. Black paint began to seep down the length of his cheeks, squeezing between the tiny cracks and crevices of his scars as he began to look like some type of sad, creepy circus clown.

" _Ha-Ha_." He growled, mocking their exuberant laughter as he inched towards the amused duo.

Ember gripped onto the wall, struggling to steady herself as Joker's appearance only made her laughter grow in intensity. He was undeniably pissed, but the situation at hand was just so very funny.

"Very funny, _fuckers_." He mocked, quickly approaching the woman as his fingers laced around her biceps. She let out a yelp upon impact, joyous laughter suddenly ceasing as the Joker lifted her over his shoulder, her stomach colliding with his bony shoulder as the wind promptly escaped her lungs.

"What are you doing?" She wheezed, flailing about in his arms as Horton's expression contorted into that of slight concern.

"Stop _squirming_." Joker scolded, tightening his hold on her legs as he shuffled back into the kitchen. Her feet met the ground once more as he finally let her free in front of the sink.

"Joker!" Ember shouted, only to let out an additional giggle when she observed the grin plastered on his melting features.

She'd become immersed in his persona–captivated by his handsome smile. She'd become so distracted that she hadn't even noticed that he'd claimed the sprayer in his right hand, bringing it closer and closer to her face. His fingers laced tightly around the handle, igniting a steady flow of water as it immediately soaked Ember's features.

The woman instinctively let out a shriek, hands darting upward to cover her face as genuine chuckles fell from Joker's smeared lips. His free hand claimed her palms, tugging them downward to reveal her already soaked face as the water collided once more with her skin.

"S- _Stop_!" Ember heartily laughed, her voice muffled by the abundance of water that coated her face as she shied away from the stream.

Joker continuously laughed, his arm lacing around her waist as he tugged her frail body to his, not once pausing the stream as he absolutely drenched the tiny woman in his arms, accidentally spraying himself several times in the process. Ember let out a series of yelps, burying her face into the comfort of Joker's inky drenched dress shirt to shield herself from the open stream.

"I surrender!" She chanted, giggling profusely as Joker applied pressure around her waist with his arm, squeezing her slightly with glee as he killed the stream.

"No- _t_ so funny now, is _it_ , toots?" He mused, his tone surprisingly cheery as Ember lifted her face from his chest to meet his eyes.

He looked absolutely ridiculous–the white nearly absent entirely from his forehead as his black holes for eyes continued to seep into the deep cracks of his healed wounds. Her gaze sat transfixed on the man, extremely amused by his appearance as she fell lost in his eyes. Deep pits of brown, staring lovingly into hers as she stood drenched in his embrace.

Joker's thumb met her chin, tugging the skin down routinely as he intently wet his lips. An array of butterflies erupted in Ember's belly at the action. She knew exactly what that innocent gesture meant...

Her eyelids fluttered closed, patiently awaiting that oh-so- _glorious_ feeling as Joker let a satisfied hum slip directly through his parted lips before pressing them to hers.

His tongue immediately slithered into her open mouth, caressing hers with ease as she sighed upon impact. That familiar, yet somewhat soothing taste of greasepaint painted her tongue, igniting her taste buds as she swallowed every breathless sigh that emerged from his parted lips.

Ember's fingers immediately tangled in his drenched curls, twisting and turning the strands between lanky digits as she became immersed in all things Joker.

Horton stood idly by, hands shoved deeply into his pant pockets as he swung back and forth on his heel in the doorway. Gaze diverted away from the spit-swapping duo, the man began to grow rather uncomfortable, unsure of whether or not to silently excuse himself, or to stay and wait until they're finished.

Ember breathlessly tugged away from Joker's lips, instantaneously craving the feeling again the moment it vanished. However, she'd suddenly remembered Horton's presence in the room, and a growing sense of discomfort had begun to settle in her bones.

Joker hastily pulled away, blinking several times as he questioningly read Ember's features.

 _What are you thinking?_

The woman awkwardly tugged out of his embrace, a sudden shiver creeping up her spine at the cool feeling of the air conditioning on her drenched skin.

"Why don't we- _uh_ , go _shower_ , yeah?" Joker cheekily suggested, winking in Ember's direction as she merely nodded.

"Yeah. Why don't you go ahead and get it ready, and I'll meet you there?" She whispered, careful not to alert Horton of their plans.

Joker quizzically raised a brow, wordlessly nodding before twisting on his heel and exiting the room, patting Horton roughly on the shoulder on the way out.

"I didn't expect him to react that way." Ember awkwardly spoke, tugging a loose strand of hair behind her ear as Horton simply laughed.

"I didn't either. I'm just happy he didn't stab us both."

Ember chuckled in response, slowly approaching the stiff blonde boy as he raised a brow at her questionable expression.

"Hey, uh, Horton?" She began, voice wavering as he blinked several times.

"Yeah?"

"I want you to have my bedroom." The woman revealed, her lips tugging into a generous grin.

The henchmans features immediately brightened, thin lips curling upwards into a grin as he ripped his hands from his pockets.

"Seriously?" He sang.

"Seriously. It's not fair that you have to sleep on the couch." Ember replied, her fingers lacing around his arm as she reassuringly squeezed. "I'll move all my stuff to Joker's room after I shower, and then it's all yours."

"Holy shit, Em. I don't even know what to say." Horton gloated, a pink tint creeping onto his cheeks. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome, Horty." She smiled, outstretching her arms to offer him a hug.

Horton returned the gesture, lacing his arms around the tiny girls waist as he effortlessly lifted her from the tile floor, spinning her in expeditious circles as she let out several giggles in response.

"I honestly can't thank you enough." He gloated.

Ember pressed an innocent kiss to the mans cheek, excusing herself from the room as she strut in the direction of the hallway. She'd truly grown to adore Christopher Horton, and she honestly considered him her best friend.

It's been awhile since she's had a genuine best friend.

Joker had left the striking purple door ajar, the distinctive sound of him humming inside sending violent trembles down the womans spine.

Ember entered the room, tightly closing the door behind her as she rounded the wall in the direction of the rather large bathroom that sat connected.

Her breath immediately left her lungs at an unfamiliar sight before her.

The very same cinnamon candles from their Valentine's Day date illuminated the bathroom, the flickering flames painting pictures along the walls as her gaze shifted towards the left side of the room.

A typically unused jacuzzi hugged the left wall, filled nearly to the brim with periwinkle bubbles as a bare-faced Joker lay lax in the water. His arms sat outstretched on either side of the tub, eyes flickered closed as the adams apple in his neck bobbed up and down with every swallow.

Ember's eyes widened at the peculiar sight, her gaze focusing on the drenched discarded clothing beside the tub as Joker hadn't even noticed her presence just yet.

"Joker?" She squeaked.

His eyes immediately flickered open, blinking several times before his vision steadied on the frozen woman in the doorway. Her arms were crossed, her limbs shivering slightly from the cold as an absolutely dumbfounded expression sat plastered upon her features.

Joker's lips curled into a toothy grin at her reaction.

"C'mon, _babe_." He cooed. "The waters nice n' _warm_."

Ember's lips parted, words failing her as she observed the mans undeniably handsome bare face. His lips were still tugged into an amused grin, teeth on display as he merely laughed at her reaction.

 _It wasn't everyday that you'd see the fucking Joker taking a candlelit bubble bath..._

Still somewhat stunned, Ember began to shrug out of her wet clothing, discarding them into the already growing pile as Joker took his bottom lip between his teeth at the sight. Once fully nude, the woman cautiously approached the large tub, brows raised in curiousity.

Joker wordlessly reached out to her, fingers lacing around her wrist as he tugged her forward, urging her to join him in the warm abyss.

" _Thaaat's_ it..." He drawled when she'd lifted one leg, climbing into the tub as she carefully avoided stepping on him. "Come si- _t_ right on daddy's _lap_."

"You're gross." She chuckled, easing into the comfortably warm water as she sat on him.

Joker's arms laced around her bare waist, tugging her impossibly close to his bare body as a sigh of content tumbled from his lips. The mixture of the extremely comforting water and his girls body sent him into a rather euphoric state.

Ember's frigid stance immediately eased under his gentle touch, limbs relaxing under the soothing temperature of the bath water as her head lulled back impulsively. The back of her skull met Joker's shoulder, fitting comfortably into the crook of his neck as her eyelids fluttered closed in ecstacy.

 _God, this was absolute Heaven..._

The warm water tickled her chest, raising and lowering slightly as it struggled to adjust to the two bodies seated comfortably in the basin.

Joker's right scar tickled the tip of her nose. The tips of his fingers traced miscellaneous shapes into the skin of her hip, the blissful feeling of his chest raising and lowering with every breath against her back was quite a heavenly feeling. Ember could clearly feel the melodic beating of his heart against her back, her toes curling at the sensation as she spiraled deeper into the pits of admiration. She simply adored absolutely everything about the man, even the littlest bits that were easy to overlook. Every tick, every breath, every steady beat of his heart and sigh that tumbled from his lips... she loved it all.

Although his bloody _I love you_ message to her on the torture room wall was undeniably creepy, the action in itself was beyond romantic. Somehow, that second time that he'd confessed his love for her seemed to be more meaningful than the first time. Perhaps it was because he'd taken the time to write it out for her, to put his love for her on display in complete confidence.

"I love you." The words involuntarily slipped through her lips before she could stop them.

A snort emerged from Joker's nose in response, his hold tightening on her hips as he pressed a simple kiss to the tip of her nose.

"I _know_."

The pair sat in a blissful silence for many moments, feeling equally content in each others arms as they drifted into tranquil states.

Then, a thought suddenly dawned upon the woman: Nine months ago, she wanted this man dead. She dreamt of him bleeding out on the sidewalk with a bullet between his eyes. She'd even said a bit of bullshit to her mother, somewhat along the lines of how she was going to strut directly into Arkham Asylum and execute him herself.

The thought altogether was quite comical. Less than a year ago, she hated the Joker with every fiber of her being. Today, she lay in his naked embrace, his lips peppering gentle kisses to her temple. Today, the thought of Joker dead made her stomach twist into painful knots.

Funny how she could go from wanting this man dead to not ever wanting to live without him. Without the Joker, Ember was good as dead.

"What'cha thinkin _about_ , princess?" He lowly whispered, his hot breath fanning over her ear as they left behind patches of goosebumps in their wake.

"You." She bluntly admitted.

Joker's lips curled into a devilish grin at her response, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as his nose nudged against hers.

" _Oh_? Wha- _t_ about _me_?"

Ember stifled a giggle, twisting her head to stare longingly into those perfect, chocolate brown eyes with a hint of green...

The candlelight frolicked about over his features, his eyes searching hers for a plausible response as she licked her lips intently.

"About how your dick is casually floating between my legs." She cheekily stated.

Joker burst into spirited laughter, his head tossing back to meet the back of the tub as the corners of his eyes crinkled. Ember reveled in the sight, completely baffled by his reaction to her statement as tiny tears slipped through the cracks of his eyes, coating his tainted cheeks and he really– _truly_ –laughed.

It was music to her ears.

"What's so funny?" She pestered, rotating her body to better face him as she delicately repositioned herself on his lap, careful not to nick his goods. Her legs straddled his waist, ankles lacing behind his back as her hands darted upward to claim his cheeks.

"I- _uh_ , seem to be rubbing _off_ on you a bi- _t_." He stated through a fit of chuckles.

Ember cupped the destroyed flesh of his cheeks, the pads of her thumbs wiping away his amused tears as she admired his flawless features.

"You know what they say." Ember mused, pressing a quick, closed-mouth kiss to his lips before abruptly pulling away.

"No- _pe_. What do they say?" Joker raised a perplexed brow.

Ember leaned forward, her lips grazing the outer lobe of his ear as she clearly felt him shudder ever-so-slightly beneath her from the sensation.

" _You are what you eat._ " She whispered in his ear.

Once again, Joker broke into joyous laughter, feeling oh-so-in-love with this amazing woman before him as she silenced his laughs with her mouth.

"I love you." She murmured against his parted lips.

"And I love _you_."

* * *

Horton sat impatiently on the sofa when Ember finally emerged from her hour-long shower, looking a bit too perky and practically glowing.

He openly scoffed at the sight, knowing exactly what must've happened in that damn bathroom as she skipped into the living room, a stupid smile slapped onto her face.

"Ready to move into your own bedroom?"

"Am I ever." Horton grinned, pressing the palms of his hands to his knees as he lifted himself from the sofa.

He kept all of his belongings in several boxes that lay adjacent to the living room wall in the very right corner, the name Chris scribbled along the sides with black sharpie.

Ember assisted him in moving the boxes to her now vacant bedroom, placing them into the room as she relocated her belongings to Joker's bedroom.

"Well," the woman began, claiming the very last of her clothing as Horton began to unpack one of his boxes. "I'm going to go grab a bite to eat. Joker'll help you if you need it. Okay?"

Horton simply nodded, shuffling through the first box as he finally was able to spread out his belongings in his very own room.

Ember promptly left the room, isolating the blonde boy as he rummaged through the same articles of clothing he's owned since his teen years. Lucky for him, he hadn't changed much height and size-wise, so buying new clothes wasn't much of a necessity. Plus, he'd learned to live off of a bare minimum after the childhood he'd had.

Christopher Horton was the only child of a cocaine-addict woman named Eloise. He'd never known his father, and his mother told him that she wasn't entirely sure who his father even was.

Eloise died when Horton was sixteen, catapulting the boy into life on the streets as he'd fallen into the pits of crime. At seventeen, Horton had become a quite successful drug dealer, until eventually abandoning the job and coming to work for the infamous Joker in 2006.

He'd never forget the first time he saw the Joker–clad in his usual, theatrical get-up and vibrant greasepaint. Horton had never questioned his sexuality until he met the Joker, and boy, he realized real fucking quick that he inevitably craved dick.

It wasn't that Horton wasn't attracted to woman. To be entirely frank, Horton wasn't attracted to anyone anymore. The Joker was it for him. No one even came close, and no one ever would.

"Need some _help_ , bud?" Joker's voice broke Horton from his trance.

The blonde boy flinched, eyes widening as he observed a bare-faced Joker standing in the doorway. His torso was clad with a striking purple button-up, the top three buttons laying open to reveal that silver chain of his, along with a bit of chest hair.

Horton practically salivated at the sight, blinking several times to rid his mind of the unbelievably dirty thoughts that flickered through it as he nodded in response.

"Uh, sure."

Joker filed into the room, unraveling his hands from his trouser pockets as he took a seat on the floor opposite the blonde boy, beginning to shuffle through the boxes and unpack his things.

"I'm uh, gonna run to the bathroom really quick." Horton stammered, jumping up from his spot on the carpet as he exited the room without another word.

Joker raised a brow questioningly at the mans peculiar action, quickly dismissing it as he removed items from the box.

One in particular, however, immediately caught his eye.

The theatrical man took the purple journal in his hands, lips curling into an "o" shape as he observed the writing scribbled onto the front.

 _C and J_

Hesitantly, Joker curled his index finger behind the cover of the flimsy book, flipping it open with ease as Horton's chicken scratch pages came into view.

 _March 24, 2007_

 _Joker looked so disgustingly attractive today (what am I kidding, he looks flawless everyday). I think he's also starting to really appreciate my loyalty, since I'm the only consistent henchman he's had in the past year._

 _I'm so in love with him. What the fuck is wrong with me?_

Joker gulped at the writing on the page, rereading the sloppy penmanship several times to confirm that he'd actually read it correctly.

He flicked through several additional pages, jaw laying agape as he caught glances of words like: so fuckable and I want him so bad.

"Boss?"

The book tumbled from Joker's grasp, colliding with the carpet as he immediately regretted snooping in the first place.

Horton stood frozen in the doorway, heart beating so thickly in his chest that he feared he may die of a heartattack. Joker had read his fucking journal, which contained bullshit about how badly Horton wanted to suck him dry...

"Do you want me to move out?" Horton wondered.

" _No_." Joker quickly countered. "Si- _t_."

Horton shakily obliged, shuffling into the bedroom as he took a seat at the foot of the bed.

Joker stood to his feet, pacing in small circles as his fingers tugged fleetingly at the skin of his bottom lip.

"Sir–"

"I'm _sorry_ , Horton." Joker spat.

The blueish-green eyed boy glared quizzically at the clown, confused as to what he could possibly be sorry for.

"For, sir?" Horton squeaked.

Joker exhaled deeply, fidgeting in place as he continued to pace the small space.

"For- _uh_ , not being _able_ to love you _back_." Joker murmured, gaze flickering in Horton's direction to gauge his reaction.

The air escaped Horton's lungs at the sound. Quite frankly, he'd never imaged Joker would say anything of the sort to him in his life... even if it was bad news.

"It's okay." Horton revealed.

"Y'know," Joker began, disregarding Horton's comment. "I- _uh_ , want you to _know_ something, bud."

The henchman shifted in his spot, heart nearly bursting from his chest at the situation at hand. "Okay?"

Joker quit pacing the room, halting directly in front of the blonde boy as he lowered on to his knees. Horton glared down at the exposed man, admiring his bare features lustfully as he awaited whatever Joker had to say.

"If- _uh_ , Ember wasn't in the _picture_ , things- _uh_ –" Joker paused, frantically trying to collect his thoughts as his tongue routinely darted out. "Things could've been _different_."

Horton questioningly raised a brow.

"Between- _uh, us_." Joker confirmed.

Horton's throat went dry at the information Joker had so willingly spewed to him. Honestly, he wasn't quite sure what to do in this moment. Every fiber of his being begged him to lurch forward, to kiss Joker so hard that his mouth would begin to bleed. However, his conscious disagreed.

 _That isn't what Joker wants._

"O-Oh?" Horton stammered, unsure of what else to say. He was truly at a loss for words.

"Like I _said_ ," Joker began, smacking his lips together as he stared into Horton's uneasy glare. "I'm _sorry_."

With that, Joker abandoned the blonde boy at the foot of the bed, filing out of the room and acting as if nothing had even happened.

* * *

 **A/N** : Huuuuge moment between Horton Joker in this chapter! If Joker's feelings confuse you, I've done my job! I will not confirm nor deny his sexuality, that is completely up to interpretation!

Anywhooo, I've decided to make this story 41 chapters instead of 40, because another idea dawned upon me today and I'm going to make it a whole new chapter. Although I'm excited to share what there is in store with you guys, I also dread ending this story.

Until next time!

xo. Allie


	35. XXXV

_"You better run, because I'm going to destroy you for what you've taken from me."_

—Samantha Young

* * *

Ember shifted her weight from one foot to the other, going over the plan multiple times in her head before raising her knuckles to meet the wilting wood.

"Don't be such a pussy, DeLoughrey." She muttered, exhaling harshly before tapping three consecutive times on the door.

The woman rocked back and forth on her heel, glancing several times over her shoulder as if she was being watched. Muffled shouts of glee echoed through the thick wood, the all-too-familiar sound creating a dull ache in Ember's chest.

Finally, the door swung widely open, revealing an aging woman dressed in a floral sundress that barely grazed her knees, along with a pair of sleek black flats.

Ember's mouth went dry at the sight of her, eyes blinking several times to ensure that she was actually here...

"H-Hello," She finally croaked, thrusting her arm outwards to shake the elder womans hand. "We spoke on the phone?"

"Oh, yes! Come in!" The lady cheered, offering Ember entrance into the large home.

The thirty-year-old woman trudged over the threshold, her heart beating thickly in her throat as several small children scurried between her legs. Ember let out a slight giggle at the children, lifting her left leg upwards just a tad so that they could slink right through without knocking her clean over.

She hastily followed the sundress-clad woman into the dreaded office, which still looked exactly the same, even after all these years. Heaps of manila folders sat piled high on the surface of a deteriorating oak desk, which had several chips out of the left corner. The single broad window sat directly behind, mahogany curtains drawn to allow sufficient amounts of light to enter the room.

"Now," The elder woman began, collapsing onto her swivel chair as Ember lowered herself onto the carob tinted seat on the opposite side of the desk. "I know you mentioned that you're interested in Jakob, the boy we heavily discussed over the phone. If you don't mind, I'd like to begin the basic paperwork, and then I can take you to see him."

Ember simply nodded, pink tongue darting outward to claim her bottom lip. Once fully wet, she tugged the skin tightly between her teeth, left foot tapping irritably against the carpet.

"Remind me of your name, darling?" The woman requested, a blue, ball-point pen held tightly in her clasp.

 _Here we go..._

Ember cleared her throat before finally spitting out her name.

"Ember DeLoughrey."

Evelyn froze, gaze diverting to meet Ember's as the pen nearly toppled from her grasp.

"You're _joking_." She gasped, studying Ember's features as her thin lips pulled into a grin.

"No, ma'am." Ember weakly smiled, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. "It's really me."

"Well, I'll be God damned." Evelyn chuckled, exchanging glances between Ember at the paperwork as she began to scribble down her name.

"Spell out your last name for me, will you, love?" She gently requested.

 _"D-e-l-o-u-g-h-r-e-y."_ Ember slowly spelled, fidgeting aimlessly in her chair.

 _Why was she so damn anxious?_

"The 'L' is capitalized, correct?"

"Yes." Ember dryly confirmed.

Evelyn merely nodded, neatly etching Ember's name onto the parchment as she hovered the tip of the pen over the next line.

"How're your mom and dad?" Evelyn wondered.

"Mom's dead. Haven't spoken to Dad."

Evelyn's features fell, her fingers applying a bit too much pressure to the pen as it collided with the paper. The ink bled cleanly through the thin sheet, creating a blue dot on the second page.

"My apologies, Ember." The elder woman stuttered, refocusing on the second line of the paperwork. "And will the child have a father?"

Ember bit roughly onto her lip, the metallic taste filling her senses as she drew a bit of blood.

"Yes." She breathed.

"Name?" Evelyn pried, gaze glued to the paper as her shoulders sat hunched.

Ember opened her mouth to speak, but a third voice beat her to it.

"Jackson _Napier_."

Ember's pulse quickened at the medolic sound of Joker's voice, a sinister smile creeping onto her lips as her neck snapped in the direction of the doorway.

The Joker lay lounged against the frame, left elbow balanced against the wood as his blood red Chelsea grin curled upwards. He was dressed in his usual theatrical get-up; thick, purple coat and all. His viridescent ringlets were vastly grown out, nearly faded entirely as dirty blond curls framed his painted face. He looked remarkably handsome and extroardinarily fuckable.

Evelyn's neck snapped up at the mention of Jackson's name, the peculiar boy who used to follow Ember around like a lost puppy. The elder womans gaze met Joker's tall frame, brows knitting together in dubiety as her mouth suddenly went dry.

"Oh my god." She immediately panicked, propelling herself backwards in the chair as she shuffled against the wall–as if that would possibly save her at this point...

Joker strut into the petite room, tugging the door closed with gloved fingers as Evelyn swiftly pried open the desk drawer, fishing around for her cell phone.

Within mere moments, Joker retrieved his full-auto Glock 17 from behind his back, pointing the silver pistol directly at Evelyn's face as he slowly approached her desk.

 _"Ah-ta-ta."_ He manically scolded, the frail womans arms shooting upwards in surrender as she cowered in her swivel chair.

"The cops can't _save_ you, doll." Joker snipped, reaching forward to rip the cell phone from the drawer. In one fluid motion, the clown whipped the mobile phone across the room, where it collided harshly with the drywall and tumbled to the floor in several pieces.

Evelyn let out a strangled cry as the madman claimed the corded phone, ripping it from the wall as that, too, joined the broken heaps of plastic on the floor.

"It's just _us_ , Eve- _lyn_." He drawled, the pistol still pointed directly at the elder womans face, aiming cleanly between her widened eyeballs.

"Please tell me this is some kind of fucked up dream." The woman began to sob, bottom lip quivering in angst as Joker let out a sarcastic cackle.

" _Oho_ , don't you fucking _wish_ it was, bitch." He spat through a mouthful of giggles, lowering the gun to his side as he began to pace the room. "This little- _uh, meeting_ is way over _due_."

"You're _Jackson?"_ Evelyn scoffed. "What in the fuck happened to you? What did that woman who adopted you do to you?"

Joker instinctively lurched forward at Evelyn's inquiry, startling both the older woman and Ember as they consecutively flinched in their chairs.

The madman's palms met the oak desk, accidentally brushing against several manila folders as they fell to the floor. His painted brows knit tightly together, already dark eyes darkening even more as they glared deeply into Evelyn's soul.

"Don't you _ever_ speak illy of my mother ever _again_." He deeply threatened, the tone of his voice shifting to a throaty growl as Evelyn swiftly nodded in response.

"I-I'm sorry, Joker, sir–"

"That's _better_." Joker cooed, retracting his palms from the wood as he finally acknowledged Ember's presence in the room.

"Hello, _darling_." Joker mused, lips tugging into a sincere grin as the gun slapped loosely against his side. Evelyn watched, mouth agape, as Joker approached the pink-cheeked girl, dipping downward to press a not-so-innocent, open-mouthed kiss to her lips.

The elder woman openly scoffed at the sight, Joker's tongue barrelling into Ember's mouth with ease as her hand claimed his jaw, deepening the kiss. They acted as if Evelyn wasn't even present.

"Ember!" She cried, mortified by the fact that the younger woman could even be with a man as deranged as the fucking _Joker._

The painted-face man hastily tugged away from his girl, a strand of spit connecting their lips for only a moment before colliding with Ember's chin. She wiped the discarded spit from her chin as the elder woman sat across from them, absolutely appalled.

"How can you be with him? He's a-a– _freak_!"

Ember stood immediately to her feet, palms clamping down on the desk rather loudly as Evelyn flinched in retaliation. "Don't fucking call him that!"

"I-I'm sorry—"

"No you're not." Ember scoffed, a sarcastic laugh tumbling from her lips as she shook her head from side to side. "You've always judged him. He came to you, trusting you when he wanted help with the voices in his head. And what did you do?"

"I—"

"You just had to blab to Xavier about it. You fucking disgust me." Ember spat, fingers curling into fists at her sides.

"Calm _down_ , love." Joker uttered, leathered fingers grazing against her bare bicep as she openly shuddered upon impact.

"Y'know," He began, waving the gun in the air to further enunciate his speech. "I really never understood why you _punished_ me, when I _obeyed_ you and wore this _fucking_ necklace everyday."

Joker's free hand claimed his theatrical tie, tugging the material loose from his neck as he skillfully unbuttoned the top few buttons of his dress shirt.

Evelyn's eyes widened at the sudden sight of the paper plane pendant, which was being torn from underneath Joker's shirt by purple gloved fingers. Ember followed pursuit, digging underneath her top to reveal the identical chain that sat around her neck.

"Holy shit." The woman gawked, shocked that the duo before her still wore the twin necklaces she'd bought them for their tenth birthday. "You both still wear those?"

"Every fucking day." Ember pressed. "Even when we were apart for fifteen years, all thanks to you."

"Me?" Evelyn scoffed. "What did I do?"

"Joker, just let me shoot her in the fucking face, will you?" Ember snipped, fingers outstretching to claim the gun. Joker, however, was one step ahead of her, as he tugged the pistol from her reach.

"Now, _now_ , doll." He politely rebuked. "Miss Evelyn has a _little_ lesson to learn _first_."

Joker brushed past the shivering woman, circling around the desk as he slowly approached a violently shaken Evelyn. He lowered to his knees before her, elbows resting on the elder womans knees as he pointed the gun directly at her face once more, the magazine resting uncomfortably on her leg.

"So _-uh, tell_ me, Evelyn. Why didn't yah _give_ me any of Em's _letters_ , hm?" Joker demanded, tongue caressing his scarred lip as his gaze bore directly into hers.

Evelyn couldn't help but gawk at the gruesome scars that lined Jackson's cheeks. The man sitting crouched before her was nothing like the Jackson she'd known...

 _What in the fuck happened to him?_

"Jackson—"

Evelyn's lips sealed the moment the name left them, the gun pressed painfully against her ribcage as Joker nearly shook in rage.

"It's _Joker_ to you, fucker." He growled, digging the pistol into her ribs as she winced.

"S-Sorry, Joker." She choked, the pistol finally leaving her chest as her fingers met the surface, rubbing circles to soothe the aching flesh.

"I don't know how- _uh, blind_ you were _back_ then, but lil fifteen-year-old me was _madly_ in love with the pretty set'a _legs_ over there."

Evelyn glanced dubiously in Ember's direction, wild eyes meeting hers as she simply shrugged in response. She'd taken her seat on the carob-tinted plush chair once again, lanky legs crossed as she thoroughly enjoyed the little show.

"We also fucked in my bed." Ember giggled.

A stupid grin spread across Joker's cheeks, his weight shifting from each leg as he mindlessly chewed on his bottom lip.

 _"My-my-my,"_ He giggled. "That was a grea- _t night."_ The man remenisced, clearly picturing himself as a teenager, so shy... so _dainty_... he hadn't even known what to do.

"You're lying." Evelyn snipped.

At that, Joker's haunting, throaty laugh erupted, sending chills down both womens spines. Although Ember loved every single piece of that wild man, that laugh still made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up.

Joker tossed his head back in glee, nearly toppling backwards as he almost lost his balance.

 _"Oho,"_ He sang through a fit of giggles. "We really _aren't_."

The laugh ceased, his gaze refocusing as the silly grin still sat on his lips. "But," He added, brows raising as the lines on his forehead began to crinkle. That damn tongue had left the depths of his mouth once again, barely grazing the corner of his lips before disappearing from sight.

 _That tick of his was quite distracting..._

"If you don't- _uh, believe_ us," Joker mused, glancing in Ember's direction. "I can always fuck her righ- _t_ on your _desk_ to prove- _ah_ poin- _t_."

"Oh God," Evelyn grimaced. "Please don't."

Quite frankly, the visuals of Ember even touching this disgusting man was enough to make Evelyn want to projectile vomit. Their little spit-swapping session had already burned a hole into the womans mind.

"Tell me, Eve- _lyn_... why did you keep those letters from _me_?"

The woman squeezed her eyelids shut, vivid memories of receiving Ember's letters for Jackson littering her mind. She thought she was doing it for his own good...

Thick tears escaped from either eye, her chest beginning to ache as Joker sat patiently at her knees.

"I thought I did it for your own good! You were so dependent on her. You needed some independence and you needed to grow up and move on!" Evelyn cried.

Joker smacked his lips together in response, eyes rolling slightly in their sockets as he fiddled with the gun in his grasp.

"That- _uh_ , wasn't your _decision_ to _make_." He murmured.

"I know and I'm—"

However, Joker hadn't allowed her to finish that sentence. His fist had promptly met the curve of her nose, shattering the cartilage underneath the skin as blood immediately began to ooze from her nostrils. Evelyn cried out in pain, cupping her profusely bleeding nose as her vision blurred with tears.

Joker removed himself from her knees, pacing the room briskly as he muttered inaudibly, contemplating what he should do to Evelyn.

"You can't kill me! What about the children?" She sobbed, the blood oozing into her mouth is it muffled her words.

"They'll find them a new orphanage. Don't worry, as soon as you're dead, I'll be sure to let CPS know about your suicide." Ember retorted.

"M-My–suicide?"

"I'm actually feeling a bi- _t_ _generous_ today." Joker stated, his fingers toying with his bottom lip as his gaze fixated once more on Evelyn's. "I'm going to let you _choose_."

Joker tore his hand from his painted face, thrusting it into the depths of his plum coat. He drew out a basic switchblade, differing slightly from his favorite, vibrant purple one. This one, unlike the other, had a plain, brown handle, with a freshly sharpened blade.

He thrust both objects, the knife and the gun, into the air simultaneously, as if to ask the woman to choose one of them. Evelyn trembled violently in her chair, shaking her head as she continued to cup her bleeding nose.

"P-Please don't d-do this." She pleaded.

"Listen here," Joker growled, reapproaching the desk with a deadly object in each hand. "You took the _one thing_ that mattered _most_ to me _away_. D'you really think I'm going to let that _slide_?"

"You have for the p-past fifteen years!" The elder woman chirped.

"Maybe I should just se- _t_ this whole office on _fire_ instead." Joker contemplated, tapping the dull side of the blade against his chin as he impatiently paced the room.

Ember still sat in her chair, hands folded in her lap as she awaited the well-deserved death of the woman who tore them apart.

"You're both fucking psychotic." Evelyn grumbled, the bleeding beginning to slow from her nostrils as she exchanged glances between the two.

"Like two _peas_ in a _pod_." Joker grinned, his glare softening as he admired the beautiful woman who sat calmly beside him.

"God, I _love_ you." He mused, heartbeat accelerating in his chest the moment the words left his lips.

The following scene appeared to move in slow motion. Ember craned her neck to meet Joker's, a hearty grin plastered on her features at the sound of those glorious words escaping his mouth. The moment they had, however, prompted him to immediately decide Evelyn's fate.

Ember flinched as the knife whizzed cleanly past her ear, crossing the room with ease as it extravagantly traveled through the air. A slight gurgle left Evelyn's lips, Ember's stare flickering in the womans direction as her jaw fell lax at the sudden sight. The knife sat lodged in center of the womans chest, a red hue coating her dress as it began to rapidly soak the material.

Ember's jaw fell slack at the sight, mortified, yet somewhat intrigued by how effortlessly Joker had tossed the knife.

 _He had frighteningly good aim..._

The color quickly drained from Evelyn's face, her fingers lacing around the knife as her breaths emerged in short pants. The thick, oozing blood from her nose had coated her lips and chin, dribbling downward to meet the growing mess of blood that emerged on the skin of her chest.

Ember's eyes sat transfixed on the dying woman, chest beginning to ache as her heartbeat drastically increased. She faintly noticed Joker tugging on her shoulder, but she was too captivated by the sight of Evelyn dying before her.

"Holy fuck." The woman gasped, hands beginning to shake as she witnessed Evelyn take her last breath, eyelids laid ajar as she stilled in her chair.

Joker tugged harder on the collar of her shirt, shifting the material lopsided as her breath cleanly escaped her lungs.

"Come on." He urged, tearing her from the chair as she struggled to break her stare from the dead woman before her.

This woman had given both of them a home for over ten years. She'd bought them the necklaces that they'd both never taken off. She was, at one time, an amazing woman. However, as Ember grew older, she'd learned that Evelyn really wasn't a good person at all.

Both Joker and Ember stumbled from the office, the madman closing the door tightly on their heel to ensure that the children did not see their foster parent in that condition.

"You need to call CPS." He grunted, ushering the woman out the back door of the building as they rapidly approached the sleek black SUV parked beneath an oak tree.

"Evelyn's dead." Ember stammered, glancing over her shoulder to view the drastically large building that she once called home.

"Excellent _observation_." Joker droned, shoving the woman into the vehicle before climbing into the drivers side. "Call CPS. _Now_."

Ember finally obeyed, digging her mobile from her back pocket as she dialed Child Protective Service's number.

As the phone rang mindlessly in her ear as the woman glanced one last time in the rearview mirror, watching the elegant home fade into the distance, along with what remained of her childhood.


	36. XXXVI

_"Oh, you. You just couldn't let me go, could you? This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You are truly incorruptible, aren't you? Huh? You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness. And_ _I won't kill you because you're just too much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever."_

—Heath Ledger

* * *

Ember lay entrapped in the bulky purple duvet, her limbs tangled in the heavy material as her eyelids continuously flickered open.

The woman preferred a pitch-black room whilst sleeping, and the taunting blue hue of the computer screen disturbed her chances of falling into a deep slumber. She rotated her lanky limbs underneath the covers, burying the right side of her face deeply into the pillow as she squinted in the direction of the bright lighting.

The Joker sat hunched over his desk, a shirt absent as he aimlessly scribbled a felt pen against several sheets of paper. His outgrown curls framed the bare skin of his face, tickling the lacerations that mutiliated his cheeks as the tip of his tongue peeked gently through the slit of his lips in concentration.

"Babe," Ember throatily groaned, her voice laced with sleep as she buried herself deeper in the blankets. "Come to bed."

Joker ignored her request, head still hung low as he continued to jot whatever was in his jumbled head onto paper.

"I can't sleep with the light." Ember added, a hint of annoyance present in her tone as she eyed the theatrical man sat at the desk.

Once again, the Joker flat-out ignored her statement, intently focusing on his current task.

"Jo–"

"Go sleep on the fucking _couch_." The man snidely snipped, the tip of the pen ceasing to rotate as the muscles in his bicep visibly clenched.

Ember's brows knit together in indignation, her fingers lacing around the comforter as she tugged it over her head.

The irritating light disappeared underneath thick material, as well as a proper supply of oxygen. The woman immediately found it difficult to breathe beneath the comforter, and with a groan of detest, she ripped it from her face.

Several loose strands of hair fell into her eyes, courtesy of the static electricity between her hair and the blanket as she kicked the material from her legs. She mimicked a young child throwing a tantrum, her arms outstretching to claim her discarded clothing beside the bed as she hastily dressed. Once her body was fully clothed, she let out a dramatic exhale, tugging a nearby blanket from the ground, along with a vibrant purple pillow, before exiting the room.

Joker hadn't even glanced up to see her leave.

The irate woman trudged down the dingy hallway, eyes contorting into slits at the blue hue that illuminated the living room. Her toes caught onto blanket, which was partially dragging against the ground as she nearly tripped.

The living room sofa finally came into view once she'd rounded the corner, a wide-eyed Horton seated on one of the cushions as his gaze sat transfixed on the television. Ember let out a groan, tossing her head back in angst as Horton's stare shifted in the direction of the noise.

"Everything alright, Em?" He croaked, brows raised in curiosity as she shook her head.

"I can't sleep because Joker's too busy writing at his desk and is using the computer as a light. Figured I'd sleep on the couch, but it seems like you've already claimed that as well."

"You can sleep in my bed." Horton politely offered. "It's four, so I'm up for the day."

Ember's jaw fell lax at his response, brows raised in wonder as she struggled to comprehend his statement.

"You wake up at four?" She scoffed.

"Yeah. Always have since my Mom died." Horton simply replied. "She died at four in the morning. My body can't seem to sleep past that time anymore now."

Ember tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, nipping harshly at the skin as she struggled to formulate a proper response.

"Don't even try to apologize or anything, though. She wasn't a good person." Horton swiftly added, a genuine grin creeping onto his lips. "I'm serious. Go sleep in my bed."

"Thanks, Hort." The woman cooed, nodding curtly before crossing the room and shuffling into the bedroom she used to call hers. She snuggled into the sheets, finally falling into a deep slumber.

* * *

"Hey- _uh, babe?_ " Joker called, gaze glued to the cracked coffee mug in his grasp.

"Yeah?" Ember shouted from the opposite room, not even bothering to budge from the sofa as she stuffed her face with freshly popped popcorn.

" _C'mere_ , will yah?" Joker grunted from the kitchen, setting the broken mug onto the island counter a bit too harshly. The glass shattered upon impact, the crack splitting cleanly in half as the mug fell completely apart.

Ember jogged into the room, slightly startled by the sound of breaking class as her stare immediately settled on the pile of glass in the center of the counter.

"Everything okay?" She breathlessly inquired, diverting her glare from the broken glass to the bare-faced Joker standing beside the counter.

"I- _uh_ , have a _favor_ to ask." He muttered, lips tugging into a toothy grin as he lounged his elbow against the granite.

"Okay? Shoot." Brows raised.

"Would'yah be a _doll_ , and- _uh_ , dye my _hair_? I'm startin' to look like a douchebag _surfer_." Joker chuckled, prying several greasy strands forward as he went nearly cross-eyed to stare at the dirty blond locks.

Ember took several steps forward, chuckling lightly at the thought of the Joker as a damn surfer. She had to admit, the sight alone was pretty pleasing to imagine.

"Do you need me to go buy you some dye?"

"No," Joker smacked his lips together enthusiastically. "Horton already _did_."

His arm extended, warm fingers lacing effortlessly between Ember's frigid digits as he tugged her in the direction of his bedroom. Horton had disappeared from the couch, excusing himself to smoke a cigarette several minutes prior as Ember followed closely on Joker's heel. She'd never dyed anyones hair before...

 _This should be interesting._

The duo filed into the bathroom, a box of flourescent green hair dye sat directly beside the sink as Joker lifted his somewhat stained t-shirt over his head.

Ember practically gawked at the sight of the muscles flexing in Joker's back as he tore the thin material from his body with ease. He'd discarded the shirt onto the floor directly beside them, a hand darting upward to ruffle his disheveled locks as Ember stood dumbfounded behind him. His chocolate brown gaze met hers in the mirror, a cheeky grin tugging at his scars as he observed her expression.

"Like what'cha _see_ , doll?" He teased, ripping open the flap on the box as he dumped the contents onto the counter.

"Very much so." The woman confidently countered, earning a satisfied snicker from the madman as he drug a nearby stool to the sink. His bum collided with the wood, the legs screeching boorishly against the tile as Ember cringed.

"It's all _yours_ , darlin'." He mused, straightening his usually hunched posture as Ember slid the latex gloves over her clammy fingers with difficulty.

"I've never dyed hair before, just a warning." She stated, snatching the cardboard box from the counter as she scanned the directions on the label.

"It isn't _hard_ , babe." Joker assured the woman, right arm extending behind him to claim her knee. His fingers laced around the skin, applying a bit of pressure as he squeezed reassuringly.

Ember tossed the box back onto the counter, running her fingers through Joker's knotted locks as she openly cringed.

"Jesus, J. Do you ever brush your fucking hair?" She scolded, tugging at a particularly large knot as he winced in discomfort.

 _"Hardly."_

Ember rolled her eyes in response, brushing through his tangles to the best of her ability before beginning to apply the bright green dye to his hair. Joker hummed an unfamiliar tune under his breath as Ember daintily applied the dye. A slight blush crept onto her cheeks when she caught him staring at her reflection in the mirror.

"Stop staring. You're creepy."

"I can't _help_ it. You're just too damn _pretty_."

"Stop moving so much." Ember scolded, lacing her fingers in his hair as she tugged his head back to meet her hands.

"Oh _baby_ ," Joker growled. "I _like_ it when you get rough with me."

"Knock it off or I'll dye your back hair green." Ember snipped, earning another genuine laugh from the man.

* * *

Ember lay back in Joker's bed the following night, soft snores emerging from her parted lips as she lay sprawl-eagle on the mattress.

The clown yearningly admired her figure, absolutely captivated by her sheer beauty as he shrugged the heavy material of his purple coat up the length of his arms, rotating the material onto his broad shoulders.

Several strands of newly dyed green hair fell into his eyes, his bottom lip pouting outward to blow them away from his face as he paced the room.

The man double and triple checked to ensure that he had absolutely everything he needed. It was nearly midnight, and his playmate would be waiting for him at the top of the still unfinished Prewitt Building by one in the morning.

His hands dug into his inner coat pockets, gloved fingers grazing over the several knives stowed in the deep pouch as he strapped his Glock 17 to his hip.

 _"Dum-dah-dum-dah-dum..._ " the madman muttered, gaze flickering over the written plan one final time before glancing over his shoulder to view Ember's sleeping frame once more.

However, she'd switched positions within the past several minutes, eyelids wide open as she glared menacingly in his direction.

"Where are you going?" She rasped.

"Nowhere." Joker quickly dismissed, muttering a strand of profanities under his breath. He was almost certain that he'd been quiet enough...

"Tell me." Ember ordered, quickly sitting up in the bed as her gaze raked his form. "You've got your face paint and suit on. You're up to something and I'm not going to sit here and suck my thumb while you're out causing mischief alone."

"Go back to _sleep_." Joker groaned, but Ember wasn't having it.

The sleepy woman crawled out of the warm, comfortable bed, dressing quickly in a pair of ripped jeans and a sweater as she tossed her hair into a high ponytail.

"Ready to go." She snickered, brushing past the stunned man as she headed towards the SUV parked right out front.

 _This fucking woman..._

Joker merely groaned in detest, filing out of the room to follow the giddy girl as she practically skipped through the eerie house.

"So," Ember began, shuffling into the vehicle as Joker latched his seatbelt. "Where are we going?"

The man nearly grunted in response, igniting the engine as he wet his lips.

"You'll _see."_

The duo drove in silence for nearly the entirety of the ride. Joker's left leg bounced irritably in place, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he grew more and more excited by the second. The adrenaline was nearly overwhelming, and he hadn't even seen his _little beau's_ face yet.

Ember eyed the man suspiciously, growing rather anxious at his overly excited stance as he turned into the parking garage of the Prewitt Building, which was still under construction.

"Who are we meeting, Joker?" The woman softly inquired.

"Since you _don't know_ how to stay in the car, follow me." Joker muttered, fiddling with the hem of his overcoat as he climbed from the vehicle.

Ember followed suit, the fresh, brisk Gotham air filling her lungs as she struggled to keep up with Joker's abnormally large strides. Even though it was the first of April, Gotham was still surprisingly chilly, especially at night. It seemed as if the sun barely shone in this gloomy city at all.

"Slow down, Joker." Ember called through short pants, skipping into the elevator as he selected an unfinished floor near the top.

"We're already _late_." He snipped, hands thrust deeply in his coat pockets as he avoided the womans gaze. She knew quite well that he did not want her here with him, but that was just too damn bad.

They were a package deal now.

Once the elevator finally dinged, signalling that they'd arrived at their desired floor, Joker had retrieved a shiny switchblade from his pocket, snapping the blade into view as Ember stiffened beside him.

"Stay behind." Joker sternly ordered, blade glimmering in the moonlight as Ember audibly gulped.

She followed orders, keeping a fair distance behind the theatrical man as her eyes wandered the scene.

"Oh, you _came_." Joker suddenly cheered, his tone bright and enthusiastic as Ember halted in place. She took refuge behind a thick steel beam, peeking around the corner to try and decipher who Joker was talking to.

"You wanted me, here I am." Batman's deep growl emerged.

Ember's blood immediately ran cold at the sound.

 _She shouldn't be here._

"I thought we could have a nice _liiiittle_ cha- _t_." Joker mused, loudly clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he circled the Batman, whose feet sat planted firmly on the ground.

"I- _uh_ , know who you _are_ , Batsy." Joker taunted, still circling Bruce Wayne as he toyed with the open blade, shifting it between gloved fingers.

"Ickle-little- _Brucie_." The clown hissed, a round of vociferous laughter tumbling from his lips as Batman's lips parted.

"How?"

"Well," Joker sang, pausing his actions as he stood firmly in front of the man in black. "As it turns _out_ , we've _both_ sunk ourselves into the very _same_ girl, haven't we?"

"It appears so." Batman monotonely replied, concealing his disgust for Ember's poor choice in men as Joker simply snickered.

"You must'a knocked a few screws _loose_ when you fucked her brains out, Brucie, for her to _fall_ for _me_."

Joker new quite well that Ember was listening to every word that slipped off of his scarlet tongue, but in this moment, he simply did not care. He had a plan to uphold...

"You're disgusting." Batman accused, but was ultimately silenced by Joker's sarcastic laugh.

"Listen," he spat through a fitful of giggles. "That's _not_ what I'm here for. I'm here to- _uh_ , offer you a bi- _t_ of a _reprieve_ , if you will."

"A reprieve from what?" Batman countered, growing impatient with the Joker's antics.

"It's _simple_ ," the madman's bloody scars curled into a hearty grin. "You join _me_ , and I _won't_ tell the world your identity. _Kapeesh_?"

"I'd never join you. You and I are nothing alike." Batman scowled, fingers contorting into fists at his sides.

"That's where you're wrong, _bucko_." Joker giggled. "You see, you _broke_ your _one rule_ the day you killed _Harvey_ Den–"

Ember let out a gasp at Bruce's next action, her palms clamping over her lips to silence the noise as he took handfuls of Joker's coat between his fists. Ember watched, wide-eyed as the mans feet rose from the ground, Batman raising him higher and higher as the switchblade tumbled from his grasp.

"Enough!" Bruce exploded, tossing Joker's body onto the ground like a ragdoll as he kicked the blade out the open window.

"Oho, Batsy wants to _play_." Joker giggled, but was ultimately silenced by the toe of Batman's boot, which had collided rather harshly with the theatrical mans ribcage.

Joker let out a low grunt upon impact. He attempted to scramble to his feet, but somehow, he'd allowed Batman to get one entire step ahead of him. Ember horrifyingly watched as Joker took a boot to his painted face, neck snapping backwards as that haunting laugh emerged.

Chills immediately coated Ember's spine, her knees beginning to wobble as she contemplated jumping inbetween them and breaking up the fight herself.

"I'd never join you." Batman sneered, lifting the clown from the ground by the nape of his neck as he drug him to a nearby open window.

Ember violently shook in place as Batman hung Joker over the edge of the building from the shoulders-up. She feared that she may projectile vomit at any moment if Bruce didn't let up on the man.

"You're garbage." Batman scolded, delivering a punch straight to Joker's jaw.

Joker continued to enthusiastically cackle beneath the man, a free hand digging into his coat pocket to claim an additional switchblade.

Batman's gaze darkened the moment he'd fished it from his pocket, his fist coming into contact with his jaw once again as Joker began to see stars.

It had been a real long time since he'd been truly beaten like this...

"D'you want to kill me, _Batsy_?" Joker mused, a sinister grin tugging at his lips as his now bloody teeth were on display. "I _dare_ you."

Batman's left hand claimed Joker's neck, fingers lacing around the skin as he constricted the madmans airway. Simultaneously, he'd managed to get ahold of the second switchblade, which was now currently lodged in Joker's side.

Although white-hot pain began to sear through the clowns vision, he continued to cackle, writhing beneath the dark knight as he struggled to breathe. Adrenaline coursed through his veins at the scenario, a mixture of pain and pleasure resonating through his body as Batman twisted the blade deeper into Joker's left side.

"Stop!"

Both men instantly froze at the female voice that had emerged.

Batman craned his neck, glancing over his shoulder to see a severely cowering Ember with Joker's Glock 17 held tightly in her clutch.

Joker raised a perplexed brow at the sight, mentally slapping himself for leaving an additional pistol in the glove compartment as his girl pointed it directly at Bruce's face.

"Bring him back inside." Ember confidently ordered. When Bruce did not immediately comply, she waved the gun several times, inching closer to the duo as her bottom lip quivered.

Batman lifted his weight from Joker's legs, dragging the limp man by his ankles back onto sturdy ground as the switchblade still sat lodged in his side. Crimson-tinted liquid began to coat his dress shirt, his breaths emerging in short spurts as he lay motionless on the ground.

"Ember–" Batman began.

"Shut the fuck up, Bruce!" Ember exploded, legs spread apart, just as Joker had taught her to stand. "Get away from him!"

Batman tossed his arms up in mock surrender, backing away from a bleeding Joker as Ember shuffled towards the painted-face man. Her features contorted into that of disgust and concern when she observed the switchblade that was still screwed into the mans side.

"You're going to fucking regret this, Bruce." Ember sneered, gun still pointed at the mans head as she bent her knees, her free hand lacing around Joker's torso to assist him into a standing position.

The weakened man stood to his feet, complexion severely paling underneath his paint as Ember held him close to her.

"You have twenty-four hours to tell Gotham who you are, otherwise I'll come to Wayne Manor myself and shoot you in the fucking head." The woman boldly threatened, slits for eyes as she glared at Bruce.

"Joker is not a good man, Ember. He's corrupted you!" Bruce argued, but the woman wasn't having it.

"Y'know, you're such a fucking hypocrite, Bruce. How can you stand there and call him a bad man when you're not any better yourself?"

"Ember–" Bruce stuttered, inching towards the trembling woman, who held a half-concious Joker up with some difficulty.

"I fucking mean it, Bruce! Twenty-four hours!"

"C'mon Em, are you really going to–"

The woman applied an ample amount of pressure to the trigger, a wave of vibration coursing through her arm as it involuntarily jerked upwards from the kick.

Batman stumbled backwards several steps, wide eyes lowering to his left arm, where a bullet had managed to wedge itself perfectly between the gap of his armor and into the inside of his elbow.

"Fuck off, Bruce." Ember spat, flicking the safety back on the gun as she tucked the firearm into the waistband at the back of her jeans.

Her gaze immediately diverted to a woozy Joker, whose weight nearly toppled her over completely. She hadn't even seen Batman leave.

"I need to get you to the car, okay baby? Can you walk?" The woman began to panic, her heart thumping thickly in her chest as she slung Joker's arm over her shoulders.

The man did not reply. Instead, he merely nodded, dragging his feet along the ground as a severely shaken Ember led him to the nearby elevator.

"Stay awake, baby. Please stay awake." She cried, vision blurring as they clambered into the elevator.

Her fingers shakily met his side, fresh blood slicking her skin as she suddenly felt very nauseous.

"It's going to be o-okay." She sobbed, but she wasn't so sure. She'd never seen Joker like this before.

The woman had managed to half-carry her love to the SUV in the parking garage on the lower level. Through hefty sobs, she was able to pry the back doors open and guide Joker into the vehicle, where he promptly collapsed onto the ground in the center.

"I'm going to get you home, baby." Ember stated, not even sure if Joker had heard her as she rounded the vehicle and clambered into the drivers seat.

The van peeled from the vacant garage, thick tears clouding Ember's vision as she steered with one hand and dialed Horton's number with the other.

Luckily, the blond boy managed to answer on the third ring, voice groggy and laced with sleep as violent cries wracked through the womans chest.

"Ember? What's wrong?" She could clearly hear the bed springs squeaking in the background, Horton's tone immediately shifting to that of immense worry at the sound of her cries.

"J-Joker's h-hurt!" She sobbed, glancing over her shoulder to view the bleeding man who lay barely concious on the van floor, eyelids slowly flickering open and closed as he struggled to stay awake.

"Hurt how?" Horton requested.

"S-So much b-blood!" Ember sobbed, Joker's blood oozing onto the flourescent green plastic floor boards, the liquid contorting into miscellaneous shapes inside the material.

"How far away are you?"

"T-Ten m-minutes." The woman sniffled, speeding down the familiar roads.

"Okay. I'll meet you outside with the medical kit."

Obscene sounds slipped through Ember's lips as she accelerated the van, desperately trying to get home as soon as possible so Horton could tend to Joker.

 _Please don't die please don't die please don't die._

"W-We're almost home baby." She confidently called, glancing over her shoulder to see that Joker's eyes had finally fluttered closed.

 _No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no!_

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the SUV bounced along the rocky path, a frantic Horton waiting by the tree stump along with a particularly large box.

Ember thrust the vehicle into park, unlatching her belt as she jumped from the seat and circled around to the back doors.

"He's u-unconscious!" She stuttered, pulling the doors open widely as Horton pried open the side double doors, eyes widening at the sight of Joker.

"Fucking hell," he murmured, climbing into the cramped space as he dug through the massive box of medical supplies. "I need your help, Em."

The woman merely nodded, following suit as she, too, climbed into the crowded space.

"We need to get his coat off."

Ember nodded, assisting Horton in removing Joker's heavy overcoat (with much difficulty, given the fact that the knife still sat wedged in his side). Finally, once they'd rid his clammy body of the coat, Horton's fingers laced with the buttons of his dress shirt, tearing them open rapidly as several stray buttons went flying.

The woman let out a cry of terror at the sight of the wound in his side, bleeding steadily as Horton ripped the shirt open as much as he could.

"I'm going to take out the knife. He's going to bleed a lot, so don't panic, okay?" Horton instructed. "But I'm going to give him some morphine first, just in case he wakes up."

Ember nodded curtly, words currently failing her as she sat at Joker's right hip, her fingers claiming his hand as she squeezed tightly.

Horton fished a bright yellow tourniquet from the container, lifting Joker's left arm as he tightly wrapped the band around his bicep. A filled syringe sat snug between his teeth, stubby fingers tightening the band so that Joker's veins would begin to protrude.

"One, two, three." Horton lowly counted, injecting the most prominent vein with morphine as Ember visibly winced.

Once empty, the blond boy discarded the syringe into the box once again, letting loose on the elastic so that it fell limp along Joker's skin.

"Look away." Horton dryly ordered.

He didn't have to tell her twice. Ember immediately craned her neck, her hold tightening on Joker's unresponding hand as she squeezed her eyes shut. The tip of Horton's tongue prodded outward, claiming the left corner of his lips as his brows knit together in concentration. Once the blade was removed, Joker would surely lose quite a bit of blood.

"It's going to be okay, buddy." Horton murmured, talking both to himself and an unconcious Joker as he gently tore the weapon from the mans side.

Surprisingly, only a small, steady stream of blood emerged, a lot less than Horton had envisioned as he promptly cleaned the bleeding wound with antiseptic wipes before beginning to stitch it up.

"Keep your eyes closed if you don't like stitches." He informed Ember, threading a needle with purple thread as his steady hands met Joker's side.

"Stay with me, baby. Stay with me." Ember muttered, holding Joker's limp hand to her chest as she kept her eyes tightly sealed.

Horton adequately sealed the wound shut, cleaning the area an additional time to ensure that it would not become infected as he shifted his weight forward towards Joker's face.

"Did he hit his head?" Horton inquired, taking Joker's smeared, painted face between his palms.

Ember's eyes finally opened, a small squeak falling from her lips as she nodded.

"H-He g-got kicked in the head."

Horton's thumb met Joker's chin, tugging gently on the skin to pry his lips open as he hovered over the mans body.

"He's got blood in his mouth, but I don't see any missing teeth." Horton informed, continuing to thoroughly inspect Joker's face and head. His fingers rotated to the back of Joker's skull, fingers becoming slick with blood as he dug his way through the clowns matted curls.

"He's bleeding from his head a little." He added.

"Why'd he pass out?" Ember wondered, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip as Horton pried one of Joker's eyes open to inspect his pupils.

"Probably from the pain. Joker's no pussy, so he must've really been hurting to pass out like this." The henchman explained. "I've seen him like this only once before. I was sure he was dead that day."

"Is he going to die?" Ember croaked, chest immediately tightening at the mere thought of losing the one good thing she's ever had.

"No. He's been in much worse shape." Horton assured her, concluding his inspection of Joker's face and head as he grabbed several additional antiseptic wipes, daintily cleaning his head wound.

Both Horton and Ember's gaze raked down Joker's bare torso, eyes agape at the sight of fresh, purple bruises that littered his skin.

"Who the fuck did this to him?" Horton gawked, fingertips grazing against the destroyed flesh as Ember gulped.

"Batman."

Horton's neck immediately snapped upwards at her response, slightly taken aback by the name that slipped through her lips.

"Batman?"

Ember slowly nodded.

"Fucking Joker..." Horton trailed off, shaking his head.

"What?" Ember pried, curious as to what Horton could be referring to.

The blond boy simply let out a chuckle, chewing mindlessly on his bottom lip as he took a seat on the blood-stained floor beside Joker's legs.

"Joker's a pretty tough dude, Em. I've seen him beat the shit out of guys twice his size. Batman, however, seems to be the only guy who Joker'll let his guard down for. I'm just surprised he let it go so far."

"He could've died." Ember cried, growing rather furious with the unconcious man at the idea that he might've actually allowed this event to occur.

"His mind works in an interesting way for sure." Horton chuckled. "Don't worry, Em. He's going to live."

Joker stirred awake several hours later, twenty minutes following the sunrise as his side began to heavily pulsate.

"Fuck." He groaned, eyes blinking several times to adjust to the light as his gaze settled upon an exhausted Horton, sitting at his feet with red-ringed eyes.

"Mornin', sunshine." Horton mused, lips tugging into a satisfied grin as Joker stared dumbfounded at the man.

Suddenly, the slight twinge in his side intensified, his head growing fuzzy as everything began to spin.

Joker lurched sideways, hanging his upper half out of the open double doors on the side of the vehicle, emptying his stomach onto the dirt quite violently as greasy strands of green fell into his eyes.

Horton immediately came to his aide, fingers tugging Joker's hair from his face as he continued to vomit up all the blood he'd swallowed last night. The pain in his side intensified from the violent action, which only made him want to vomit even more.

His hexagon-print dress shirt still cloaked his torso, all of the buttons undone as his bare chest sat on display. Once he'd thrown up virtually everything in his stomach, he let out a dissatisfied groan, easing back into the vehicle and onto his back as his fingers met his bandaged side.

Horton took a spot beside the man, daintily inspecting the bandaged wound as Joker let out an involuntary hiss.

"Give me some _morphine_ , will yah?" Joker croaked, his throat on fire from all the stomach acid that traveled through it.

His loyal henchman nodded curtly, shuffling through the medical supply box as he filled a clean syringe with fresh morphine.

Joker's neck craned up, glancing in the direction of the bench to his right. Ember lay soundlessly across the cushion, hands folded underneath her head like a pillow as she slightly snored.

"She saved your life." Horton confirmed, wrapping the very same yellow tourniquet around Joker's arm as he searched for the perfect vein. "You would've bled to death up there if you would've gone by yourself."

Joker hastily swallowed, adams apple bobbing in his throat as he continued to view the beautiful, sleeping woman above him. Horton injected the morphine into Joker's blood stream, not even earning a wince from the man as he nodded in nonverbal thanks.

"She's like my fucking guardian _angel_ , Hort." Joker chuckled, feeling immediately at ease as the pain subsided in both his side and head.

"I won't argue with that one. She's really saved you, hasn't she?" Horton grinned, discarding the empty needle into the box.

"In more ways than _one_ , mate."


End file.
